


The Attempt & The Aftermath

by Tears_Scars_and_Heartstrings



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: ADHD Dewey Duck, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Louie Duck, Autistic Huey Duck, Blood and Injury, Depression, Doctors & Physicians, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Haphephobia, Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Violence, Navy Donald Duck, Original Character Death(s), Parent Della Duck, Parent Donald Duck, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Therapy, Traumatic Brain Injury Launchpad McQuack, Triggers, featuring many of my own headcanons, selective mutism, set between s2 and s3, supportive family, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 98,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tears_Scars_and_Heartstrings/pseuds/Tears_Scars_and_Heartstrings
Summary: Strong trigger warnings apply. Please read tags.After a family fight leads Donald Duck feeling hopeless, he makes a decision that shakes his and his family's world. Hospitalized for a month, Donald must face his mental health struggles he's buried for so long. His family must face what's happened and how to move forward. And together they can all work towards healing
Comments: 183
Kudos: 265





	1. The Attempt

**Author's Note:**

> This year has been hard to say the least and with it comes a resurgence of poor mental health for myself with less ways to get help than before. Thus this fic was born. Many trigger warnings apply to this fic. I have tried to put most of the more triggering content in this first chapter so that the other chapters can have more of a focus on healing however this whole fic is certainly Potentially Triggering. If any of you feel I missed an important trigger warning or otherwise important tag, please let me know! Angst can be good and all but I don't want anyone to be triggered by my work. I hope that those of you who do read will enjoy!
> 
> Also needless to say this fic is not canon compliant! I pulled a lot from canon here but I also shoved a ton of my own headcanons and timeline of events here! 
> 
> Also also, this is a long first chapter. Future chapters will be shorter than this. Probably. 
> 
> Lastly, an absolutely enormous thank you to my two beta readers, Alyssa015 and Casandravus. Without your support and encouragement I wouldn't have been able to put the time and love into this as I have. So thank you both so incredibly much. It means the world to me.

Everything was blurry. Very, very blurry. Donald couldn't make out anything for those brief moments his eyes opened. His eyelids felt heavy. So very heavy. Forcing them open was laborious. And still he couldn't see anything. Blurry and grey. All colors were muted. Very blurry and very grey. Blurry and grey wasn't worth the effort to hold his eyes open. He stopped fighting. But still. It would be nice to know where he was. 

He tried to focus on sound. He could hear voices. Several unfamiliar voices. But they were so far away. Where was he? Who were they? Why were they so far away? It strained his head trying to listen closer. The sharp pain took a shot at him like a hard slap on a school desk by a stern teacher armed with a ruler. Where was he? Who were these people? Why did he think he just heard his name? Did they know him? Sharp pain struck him again. Ow! Why was he hurting like this? 

Donald tried to sigh then became aware of how heavy his chest felt. Like something heavy was placed on it. He tried to push the source of weight away but found his arms feeling heavy as well. It hurt but it also felt numb? Ugh. Why did nothing make sense? Why did everything feel wrong? 

Everything hurt. Everything was wrong. He didn't want to fight it anymore. The darkness tempted him with it's easiness. Forget figuring out where you are or what went wrong this time. Just cease. 

With as strong of a breath as he could manage, he surrendered to the darkness. 

Grey and blurry. Still so difficult to see anything. But hey, for some reason his eyes didn't feel strained like before. Donald blinked several times. Still a little unclear but texture was beginning to come into sight. What was that above him? Roof panels with a porous texture? What was this? Why was he in this strange place? Just why? 

He groaned and he could actually feel his vocal cords working. His breathing came easier. Whatever that weight was seemed to be lifted. Strange. His body however still felt lethargic. Ugh! Why did his brain have to feel so scattered right now? If he could just remember what happened before this...

"Donald lad, take it easy, there there now. Stop trying to move...it's alright."

"Unca Scrooge?" He managed to ask. It felt like something was scratching at his throat. It hurt. He tried to cough. Somehow that made it worse. Several more rough coughs broke out of him, causing a ripping pain as they did. He groaned.

"Easy lad. Easy...here," came Scrooge's voice softly. Donald blinked again, a cup of water worked its way into his view. Or at least that's what he thought it was? He tried to lift his arm. Tv static numbness, painful pins and needles sensation attacked his muscles. It was surprisingly painful. A different feeling came upon him. He could feel water at his beak. Scrooge must be holding the cup up to him. He slowly drank. It helped a little. When he emptied the cup, he felt it move away from him. Donald blinked a few more times. His eyes finally cleared up properly. He could see Scrooge sitting beside him, a strange sort of concerned smile on his face. And Donald himself was sitting in a hospital bed. 

Wait...hospital bed?

How on earth did he get here?

The last place he remembered being was in his hammock on the houseboat.

He was...wait....no!

He shouldn't be here!

"Yer alright lad. I've got ye. Yer safe." Scrooge's words cut through Donald's thoughts. It left Donald's mind completely blank for a long moment as he stared at his uncle. Scrooge removed his spectacles and was wiping them clean.

"You've been out fer hmmm quite a few hours. At least 12. 'Fraid I dozed off fer a bit meself. Lost a bit of track of time. Got me attention when ya started stirring." The Scottish duck gave Donald a warm smile. It was incredibly foreign to Donald and it made him feel suspicious. Scrooge...Scrooge never smiled at him. Not like this. Something wasn't right here.

"Ya gave us all a real scare there. Yer heart stopped several times. Couldn't get ya to breathe. Ya even died once, technically. But yer safe now lad. It's alright now." 

Donald's heart began to sink. Scrooge had no idea...

"Now, I don't mean te overwhelm ya if yer not ready but do ya perchance know who did this to ya?"

"What?" Donald asked in disbelief. 

"Who did this to ye lad? Who attacked ye? Was it Glomgold? Seems unlikely to be him but perhaps he's trying new tactics. Was it..oh no it couldn't be Magica...how about that insufferable Beaks character then? Him I could see attacking ye like this, trying to make it into some sort of 'headline' hmm," Scrooge rambled. Donald could only watch as Scrooge lightly paced and muttered off names of his enemies. Oh how he couldn't do this. He couldn't tell Scrooge...oh he just couldn't....

"Oh nevermind all that lad. It's alright if it's too much fer ye right now. But I promise ye. I'll get them for this. I will make sure they suffer in a way they never knew possible. No one messes with Clan McDuck! Ooooh they made a grave mistake Donald I assure you. They will rue the day they dared to lay a finger on me family!" 

Donald shut his eyes. He knew full well what happened. His memory cleared up. And he couldn't stomach that now he was going to have to tell Uncle Scrooge. Oh this wasn't supposed to happen! Besides! He left it all for Scrooge in his note...

"Didn't you read the note?" Donald asked. Scrooge looked at him in bewilderment. 

"Well of course I did! It's all hogwash of course. I know it's just part of this con. They only want me to think you did this to yerself but they forget I am Scrooge McDuck! I am sharper than the sharpies after all! I was hoping that note would give me some sort of clue as to who did this. I haven't found one yet but mark my words. They will not know the fury I will unleash upon them when I do," Scrooge spoke with such pride and determination. It almost warmed Donald's heart. His passion to protect the family...it was beautiful. And it was breaking Donald's heart. He knew he was going to have to tell the truth. Though it would be easier to point the finger at someone else than say what had to be said, Donald couldn't manage it. 

Besides, Donald thought bitterly. Scrooge would need it to accept that he was just gonna do it again. 

"Nevermind that all now. You just rest. Vengeance will strike back in due time. Or my name isn't-"

"Scrooge. Just stop." Donald said loudly, cutting his uncle off. Scrooge looked very shocked. He then smiled sheepishly a little at his nephew.

"Ehem. Sorry lad. I'll uh...I'll just erm head on..."

"There's something you need to know," Donald said. Oh how he felt sick to his stomach already. 

"Oh? Did ya remember something?" Scrooge asked as he stood beside Donald again. Donald looked away.

"Scrooge...there was no attacker."

"What the dismal downs are ya talking about lad?" 

Donald exhaled then breathed in sharply. He was gonna have to just say it. Just get on with it! He brought himself to look Scrooge in the eyes.

"There was no attacker. That note wasn't fake. I...I tried to kill myself."

Small was never a word anyone would use to describe Scrooge McDuck. The name alone conjured up images that were larger than life itself. And anyone whoever met him in person learned first hand, the duck measured up to the things said about him. If not surpassed them. He had riches untold, seen things no one else had ever seen before, lived more in his many years than anyone could ever dream of. 

And yet. 

When those words left Donald's mouth, he watched Scrooge shrink. He saw before his very eyes the way Scrooge seemed to age. The seemingly immortal duck suddenly looked weary to his bones. He trembled. He slowly sank into the chair. His breaths came out sharply as if causing him great pain. The larger than life Scot looked so meek and small, sitting there and trembling. 

It was one of the most frightening things Donald had ever seen. 

Scrooge said nothing for a long moment. Donald began to feel fearful. Was Scrooge having a heart attack or something? Scrooge seemed to be turning pale and green and his breaths came out even harsher than before. Donald was hit with the memory of Scrooge looking much like this the night Della was lost. He sat there unsure of what to do when he heard it. Softly at first.

"It cannae be. Say it isn't true..."

Then louder this time.

"Yer lying to me. It isn't true."

"I'm not Scrooge."

"YER LYING!" Scrooge shouted, jumping out of his chair! "MY Donald would never!" He grabbed Donald by his his shirt collar and yanked him forward! "WHO ARE YA AND WHAT HAVE YA DONE WITH MY DONALD!?" 

Donald teared up and turned his head away from Scrooge. Literally this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. How the hell was he still alive anyway? Scrooge shook him again, distracting that thought.

"What kind of sick game are ya playing!? What do ya want!? Where is my Donald!?" 

Donald began to feel furious! He made a perfect plan to achieve the peace he craved and give the family exactly what they needed and for some reason THIS WAS HAPPENING INSTEAD!? OF ALL THE ROTTEN LUCK!   
He screamed and pushed Scrooge off of him!

"I'm right here you crazy old bird! But I shouldn't be! I swallowed enough pills to kill an ox!" 

Scrooge wobbled, trying to balance himself. His face held a look of sheer horror. He gripped his cane tightly. For the first time that Donald ever saw, he truly seemed to need it. 

"No...lad it cannae be..."

"It is. Now how the hell am I still alive!?" Donald shouted. Scrooge winced. 

"I....I went out to ye boat...I found ye not breathing...I thought..." Scrooge's voice trailed off. He shook his head then turned strongly towards Donald again. "No! I won't fall for it! My Donald wouldn't do this! It HAS to be a trick! Where did ya get the pills eh? What about those defensive wounds on yer hands?" 

Donald looked at his hands wondering what Scrooge was talking about. That's when he saw all the cuts mostly on the sides, a few in his palms and back of hands as well. Oh. Those. He sighed.

"I smashed the mirror in the bathroom."

"Why would ya do that!?" Scrooge asked in disbelief.

"Don't you get it Scrooge! I am not okay! I hate myself! I haven't been okay for a long time! I just want to move on!"

"Move on? What nonsense is this?!"

"You don't get it! You never will! You're the great Scrooge McDuck! I'm not like you! I'm....I'm not successful. Or brave. Or smart. Or even capable of anything other than disaster! I...I can't keep living like this..." Donald's voice trailed off. He didn't have the energy to fight. What did it matter if he made sense or not? 

"Nonsense Donald..." Scrooge said softly after a long silence. He gently placed a hand on Donald's face. "Yer incredibly brave. And very smart. And yes, you are capable. Look at how wonderful the boys are! Thanks to you." Scrooge smiled at Donald. Donald crossed his arms and looked away. Scrooge's hand fell away as did his smile. 

"What happened? What made...ye decide to do this?" Scrooge asked. Donald rolled his eyes.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me."

"Then I'll say it plainly. I don't want to be alive anymore. And now that Della is back, I don't have to be."

Scrooge looked ready to cry at hearing those words. It made Donald feel angry in a way he couldn't describe. 

"This really didn't happen overnight then...ye have been planning this..."

"Yes," Donald snapped.

Scrooge starred at the floor. Donald could only guess what he must be thinking. Scrooge was probably disappointed in him. Angry at him. Disgusted even. He probably hated him as much as he hated himself. He expected to hear Scrooge say " _well then I should have just left ya to die then!_ " but the words never came. Instead Scrooge continued to stand there, trembling and silent. 

"What happened?" He softly asked. Donald glared at him.

"What does it matter Scrooge?" 

"No one just ends their life for no reason lad...tell me. What happened? Why? Why would ye do this?" 

"I wrote it all down in the note for you. Go read that and leave me alone," Donald snapped.

"Donald! Please lad..." Scrooge began, his anger quickly fading into sadness. "Ye told me that. That. That something good happened! And that things were going to get better! Ya talked about selling yer boat and moving back in! Why would ye do this instead?" 

Donald only rolled his eyes.

"I never said I was moving back in. I only talked about the boat having value so you could sell it. Again Scrooge. It's in my note. Go read that and leave me in peace."

"Son! Please!" Scrooge cried. "Why are ye refusing to let me help?"

"I don't want your help!" Donald screamed back. That startled Scrooge so much that he took a large step back from Donald's side. Good. 

"I just want to help ya son, I-"

"Stop calling me that!" Donald cut Scrooge off. "I am _not_ your son!" 

"Aye, that may be true, but I have grown to love Della and ya as if you wee rascals were my own," Scrooge said, a proud smile working it's way up his face. This only further infuriated Donald.

"Oh spare me the lies Scrooge! You hated us! You wanted nothing to do with us! 'Family is nothing but trouble' you said! 'You're in my way of getting what I want' you said!" Donald screamed. It made Scrooge wince harshly. The older Duck's eyes opened glossy. Tears slipped out.

"Aye. I did say that. And I was wrong." 

"I'm sorry what? I didn't hear that? Can I get it writing? Time stamped? The great Scrooge McDuck admitted he was wrong!? Surely it can't be!" Donald sassed. Scrooge angrily wiped away his tears.

"I know what you're trying to do Donald and it won't work. Not this time!" He said defiantly with a hard stamp of his cane. 

"Whatever!" Donald said with a dramatic throwing of his hands. 

"You stop with that attitude! I am not leaving! Yer not going to make me so angry that I give up and leave ye alone this time. Son." Scrooge insisted. This earned him another angry glare from Donald. However it shocked the Scot to watch the anger fall away into sadness as Donald looked down. The sassy attitude and anger all gone for a long moment. Only sadness. Scrooge wanted to hug him desperately. Instead he gripped his cane tighter. 

"It's true though," came Donald's voice finally. In the kind of quiet timid way Scrooge hadn't heard since the lad was only a wee child.   
"You have come to love Della. She's like you. Adventurous. Clever. Determined. Capable. And I'm not! I'm like the opposite of you two! And I don't want your life! So...no. Della is different than me. You love her. You helped her get that plane. You built her that damn rocket. You love her with arms wide open like a daughter...and you have never loved me. Especially not like a son."

Everything Donald was saying tonight was a bombshell to Scrooge. An assault on his heart. It was insult on injury on top of several other injuries, the way the things he said dug into his heart. But what was worse? That Donald wanted to end his life? Or that he believed so deeply that he wasn't loved? Somehow Scrooge was still standing. But barely. 

"Donald. I. I'm sorry. Alright? I'm so sorry. Clearly...clearly I have nae shown ye how much ye mean to me. I care about ye just as much as I care about Della." He attempted to reach out to Donald but his hand was slapped away. Scrooge sighed and pulled his hand back. 

"How can I help?" He asked. "Please Donald. Surely there must be something I can do."

"You can leave me alone. I'm tired. I'm done. I'm not fighting it anymore. Just let me die," Donald replied bitterly. Again Scrooge felt his heart skip a beat painfully hearing that. Surely this had to be a bad dream. Truly this couldn't be happening. Right? 

"No...I won't let ye." 

"You realize I'm just gonna finish myself off once I get out of here right?"

"No ye won't. I took ya pills out of the boat. I won't let ya do this to yer self again."

"Well maybe I'll just do something else then!" 

"No! Stop it! I can help ya! Donald please! Please stop..." Scrooge couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He began to sob into his hands. 

Donald turned onto his side away, facing away from Scrooge. He crossed his arms and sighed angrily. Scrooge just didn't get it. He couldn't. It did admittedly surprise Donald how upset Scrooge was. The only time he'd ever seen Scrooge cry was over Della. When the Spear of Selene was lost. How the old man cried over those controls. And probably more afterwards but after Donald and him fought, he had stormed out. Leaving Scrooge alone with his grief. It was strange hearing him cry. Especially for him. And to hear him say that he does care about Donald...well. It was nice to hear. Too bad it didn't change anything. 

Donald was simply too angry. And too stubborn. He had made up his mind that committing suicide was the best thing for him to do. For him and the family. For someone so sharp Scrooge sure didn't seem to get that. Okay so maybe Scrooge would actually grieve him. Unexpected. But Scrooge would survive it. He always survived. Besides he had his Della and the boys. He'd have everything he need. 

"What about the kids?" Scrooge choked out. "If not for me then for them? Please?" 

"This is for them," Donald simply stated. 

"That is cockamamie crap and ye know it," anger pushing the sadness out of Scrooge's voice. 

"No really," Donald said as he pushed himself to face Scrooge again. Perhaps he could explain it to the old man. Then he'd understand. And leave him be.

"It's perfect really. I kill myself. My will goes into effect. The kids go back under Della's custody like she wanted. Della gets my car and all the other things I left for her and the boys. It helps them get their needs while not costing you anything. You get my boat. All the repairs are done so it's still worth some money. You gain financially by selling it. You get your pool back. You still have Della and the boys. And now all of you no longer have to deal with me dragging you all down. And I finally get to be at peace. Really I'd have thought for "sharper than the sharpies" you'd understand," Donald said oddly proud of his plan. 

"Cannae ye hear yer self? Ye really think all that will happen if ye end yer life?"

"Uh. Yeah. I had my will updated and finalized. That's exactly what will happen. "

_How could he say this so casually?! How could he not realize the devastating blow this would have on them all?!_

"Really? Can ya not hear yer self!? I'm not talking about possessions and money, lad! I'm talking about the loss of you! Do ya really think yer death wouldn't affect this family?" 

"I was missing for over a month and no one noticed. Or even cared. No. No I don't think it would," Donald replied, his sharp voice full of venom.

"And that's my fault! I couldn't understand what ya were saying! I'm the one who told the family ya would be back in a month!" 

"No one tried to get ahold of me when Della came back! Or even on the boys birthday! You don't think that was important to me?!" 

"Again, MY FAULT! I wanted ye to have a vacation! I wanted ya to get to relax! I thought calling you when ya were out in the ocean would only disrupt you! I'm the one who told the family we'd wait and have a big celebration when ya got back!" 

"Whatever."

This was beginning to feel to Scrooge like trying to roll a large boulder uphill. Why couldn't he get through to him? Why couldn't he make him see that this was not the answer!? The solution had to be there somewhere. It seemed like an impossible puzzle but Scrooge McDuck was not going to be intimated nor defeated. He would just have to keep looking at the pieces...

"What exactly do ye need peace from Donald?" He tried cautiously. "What is so wrong in yer life that ye feel like this?"

That got a reaction from Donald. First he harshly winced. Then his hands tightened into fists. And then he started screaming!

"Are you blind?! Are you deaf?! Or are you just stupid!?" He shrieked. For the first time since awoke Donald tried to get out of the hospital bed. He was yanked back by the oxygen tube around his face he hadn't realized was there. He yelled in further frustration and fought with the tube. In true Donald fashion he somehow started getting wrapped up in other cords as well until his arms were bound together. 

"Hold still son," Scrooge shushed a still angrily squawking Donald as he helped untangle him. Donald finally quieted down as Scrooge worked. Up close the Scot could see the tears on verge of spilling over in Donald's eyes. He could see the way he trembled. Nothing was spoke as Scrooge continued to untangle the many cords. This, he realized, was like what he was going to have to do to help Donald. Untangle his web of self hatred. 

"Donald. I. I see now. This won't go away overnight. But I cannae let ya kill yer self."

Surprisingly Donald didn't say a word. The room was quiet as Scrooge got the last of the cords unwrapped. Donald rubbed his wrists still saying nothing. Scrooge clasped a strong hand on Donald's shoulder.

"Even if ya hate me for it...I'm going to find a way to help ya son." Scrooge quietly promised. He nudged his head against Donald's then pulled away. Now that Donald had calmed down he figured he better get a doctor in here. A little surprising all their yelling hadn't brought someone in. But whatever. Before Scrooge could make it to the door, he heard it.

"I don't want to die."

Immediately Scrooge was back at Donald's bedside. Donald pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. He looked so small and afraid like he had when he and Della first came to live with him. 

"I don't want to die. But I'm tired of living."

"Then let me help you," Scrooge whispered, reaching to cusp Donald's face. He pulled away to avoid the touch.

"You can't. No one can," Donald quietly replied.

"I don't believe that son. And I won't stop until I find something that helps. Say, what about yer old therapist? Jones, was it? What if ye went to him again?"

"Jones is an anger management counselor remember? This isn't his specialty." 

"Doesn't mean he cannae help?"

"No. He can't help. No one can."

"Not with that attitude." 

"Just stop Scrooge. Please. Just let me do this. It's what's best." 

"Stop saying that. We both know it isn't. Yer just hurting. And I'll find a way to help ye not hurt." 

Unexpectedly, this struck a nerve in Donald. 

"Oh really? You think this will just all go away!? This hurt I've carried for years? This hurt that everyone says I'm 'holding onto for no reason and 'just need to let go of' is just gonna go away huh? Well I'm sorry! Just cause it's in the past doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt! And I've tried letting go! I have! I have been for years! But it all STILL HURTS! I still can't let go of it! It still hurts that I lost my parents! I still feel pain and guilt that I couldn't save Darren so because of me the boys don't have their father! I couldn't stop Della from leaving! Even my pain from losing her isn't healed, and now I've lost the boys! I just can't let it go! And now oooh the mighty Scrooge McDuck is gonna come in and save the day as usual! Not this time! I'm going to end my life Scrooge! Stop trying to stop me!"

The outburst startled Scrooge. He tried to put a hand on Donald in order to ease him but Donald shoved him away. Nearly toppling over, Scrooge managed to to steady himself.

"Just get out Scrooge! Get out! Leave me alone!" 

"I left ya alone for 10 years! I'm not doing it again!"

"You should have just let me die!" 

Scrooge felt himself boiling over! Just when he thought he made progress! 

"Curse me kilts ya are the most stubborn Duck I have ever...agh! Fine! Ya want to be left alone! I'll leave ya alone!" Scrooge shouted and walked out of Donald's hospital room. 

The air in the hallway felt different. Colder at least. It felt good on his lungs. He spent a long moment just breathing it in before walking away. He got several steps away before looking back over his shoulder. Should he turn around? Go back in? Wait by the door and go back in there? 

No. He wanted to be alone. There was no reasoning with Donald when he got pushed past a certain level of anger. Frankly it was a little surprising he hadn't started trying to trash the room. So Scrooge turned around and kept walking. When did he become so tired? Why was walking feeling so painful the further away he got? Whatever. Push on through. He made his way to the closest desk. A few nurses were there. Politely he waited for one to come over to him which thankfully wasn't long.

"Mr. McDuck! Any changes with your nephew?" The nurse asked.

"He's awake," Scrooge said.

"Oh wonderful. I'll send Dr. -"

"Donald has expressed that he's still a danger to himself. He's not ready to leave the hospital yet. Please don't let him," Scrooge begged the nurse. She looked a little shocked by this but then nodded. 

"Okay Mr. McDuck. I'll make note of it and let the doctor know."

"Please. I'm very serious. He made it very clear he will attempt again. Please don't let him leave yet," Scrooge added. Again the nurse nodded.

"I understand Mr. McDuck. Your nephew will be safe here. We will keep in touch." 

Scrooge managed to weakly nod and thank the nurse. Wearily he made his way towards the elevator. He couldn't believe how exhausted he felt. Like he could collapse. His fingers felt numb as he fumbled with his pocket in search of his cell phone. The gold phone was soon in his hands and he called for Launchpad to pick him up at the hospital. 

The minutes ticked slowly by as he waited in the lobby for Launchpad. Even though logically he knew technically time was moving the same as always. But still. It felt like an eternity. Stewing in his own jumble of thoughts and feelings. This still felt incredibly unreal. It just couldn't be real! Surely Scrooge McDuck would have been able to see this coming! Right? He would know if his family was hurting! Right?!

"Uncle McDee?" Launchpad's voice broke through Scrooge's thoughts. The Scot shook his head and looked up, seeing his driver slash honorary nephew standing over him. The redhead duck looked incredibly concerned. Scrooge attempted a smile. Launchpad returned one. 

"Ready to go Uncle McDee?" LP asked. 

"Aye. I am," Scrooge nodded weakly. The two made their way quietly to the limo. 

As they drove further away from the hospital Scrooge suddenly swore loudly. 

"Ah! Everything alright back there?" Launchpad asked in a panicked voice.

"Sorry Launchpad. Yes I'm alright. I'm...I'm just frustrated." Scrooge said as he gripped his cane tighter.

"Um Uncle McDee...is Donald okay?" He asked. 

"I. Uh...No Launchpad. He's not. Not yet at least," Scrooge explained. Launchpad nodded.

"I'm scared for him," Launchpad said out loud although seemingly more to himself.

"I am too. But don't worry. We'll figure it out," Scrooge encouraged him. That made Launchpad smile.

"I've been practicing that song he wrote. I hope he comes home soon. I can't wait to play it for him."

"You two have been playing music together? Since when?" Asked a very surprised Scrooge. He didn't think the two really knew each other. 

"Oh yeah. We've mostly been practicing on his boat or in the garage. He wanted to make sure we didn't bother you."

"Oh. Well that's...that's wonderful Launchpad! I'm sure that will make Donald very happy," Scrooge said with a bigger smile. He then fell silent again, back into his thoughts. Mentally, he was still kicking himself for the realization he fell for the oldest trick in Donald's book. Donald got him riled up and angry. Angry enough to leave him alone. Curse everything! That boy was surprisingly manipulative when he wanted to be. 

He forced himself to breathe steady. Donald was in the hospital. He'd be safe there. It would be alright. _You need to go home anyway,_ Scrooge told himself. _It's time to include the rest of the family in what was happening_.

* * *

Well. It worked. Donald managed to get Scrooge angry enough to send him out the door. Worked every time. For a moment he felt rather smug for being able to still manipulate Scrooge all these years later. Then his smile fell. Admittedly it hurt, seeing Scrooge leave. Hearing him cry for him. Hearing him passionately declare his determination to help him. Even calling him son...He didn't expect that. Not at all. And truthfully it scared Donald. And he couldn't quite put a finger on why it did. 

The soft beeping of machines around him was the only sound as he lay back in the hospital bed. But his mind continued to race.

No. Scrooge was wrong. Scrooge was lying. If he did he'd treat him more like how he treats Della! He's always so happy to see and thinks everything she says is fascinating. He helped her get that plane. He built her that rocket. He was devastated by her loss. And even just the little things in every day life...Scrooge always looked her in the eye. Always smiled at her. Even when he didn't agree with her, his way of speaking with her was so much kinder than it was with him. He didn't insult her. Call her stupid and unintelligible. Or pathetic. Or hopeless. Could Scrooge even remember all the things he called Donald? Said to him? Does he remember every disappointed glare he tossed his way? Because Donald could. 

No. It didn't matter what Scrooge said or did. It didn't matter because it wasn't true. None of it! Scrooge didn't love him! Never has, never will! Doesn't matter what he said! Scrooge was a liar and a manipulator! Of course he'd say anything to get what he wanted! He always did! Donald couldn't trust anything he said! 

Steam seemed to be coming from his ears as he sat there, stewing in his thoughts, ready to boil over. 

His mind suddenly went blank when he heard the door click. Immediately his eyes traced the sound. Open swung the door and standing there was a doctor. A brown dog with glasses and a white lab coat.

"Hello Mr. McDuck. Good to see you're awake. My name is Doctor Pauz," he said with an outstretched hand. Donald winced looking at the expecting hand. He hated physical touch. Some exclusions apply but strangers was always a no. He closed his eyes and quickly shook the hand. God, it felt like he was on fire! He let go quickly. 

"Not much for physical touch eh Mr. McDuck?" Doctor Pauz asked.

"No. Not really. And it's just Duck. Scrooge may be my uncle but I don't have his name," Donald corrected him. 

"Oh. I see. I'll correct that here," the doctor said as he quickly wrote on some paperwork. "Now. Let's talk about why you're here."

"Do we really have to?" Donald asked. 

"If you want to get out of here, then yes," the doctor replied as he flipped through this paperwork. He read off some names which Donald realized were the medications he took. 

"All of those found in your system combined with alcohol...this doesn't look like a party gone wrong to me."

Expectations hung in the air. Donald felt that all too familiar feeling of his throat tightening. Terror gripped him, choking him. Of fucking course this would happen right now. Of course! He just to freeze up like an idiot! His fingers began prod and tug at the base of his throat. His breaths came out in a wheeze. Dr. Pauz gave him a strange look.

"Are you alright Mr. Duck?" 

Donald gasped, trying to speak. However fear gripped him. Fear wouldn't allow him to get even a word out. He gave a nod but he couldn't form words.

"How about a white board? Would that help?"

Donald nodded enthusiastically. Dr. Pauz fetched a small whiteboard with a marker from the supply closet and handed it to him. 

"Now. As I was asking. Can you please explain to me what that combination of pills and alcohol was doing in your system?"

And then the pit in his stomach returned at the doctor's words. Gosh how he absolutely hated this. This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to have died! Now he has to sit here and face judgements from everyone instead on why he was such a failure he couldn't even end his own life right! Anger turned to tears in that fell from his eyes.

Oh well. What was the point? He was a failure in everything. No point in denying it.

"I tried to kill myself." He wrote. Dr. Pauz nodded. 

"As I suspected. Tell me, why are you having trouble speaking with me now? Are you ashamed?" 

This one stumped the duck a little as it was unexpected. It made him ponder himself for a moment before deciding to stick with honesty.

"I have anxiety. Sometimes it's so bad I can't speak. Like right now."

"Why are you anxious Donald?"

"Because..." well another hard one. Gosh why did he have to ask such difficult questions? What was the point?

"Because I'm a screw up. Because I'm miserable. And I just want to end my life and have peace and I can't even do that right."

"Do you think dying is the only way you can achieve peace?" 

No hesitation this time. "Yes." 

"So in other words, you're just going to attempt again if I let you out?"

Again with no hesitation. "Yes."

Then came the immediate heads smack and regret. Oh no. He should NOT have admitted that! 

Dr. Pauz looked incredibly sympathetic and concerned. 

"Donald, you do understand now that I can't sign for your release due to what you just told me." 

"WELL WHY NOT!? WHAT'S IT MATTER IF I DO OR NOT!?" Donald furiously wrote. 

"Donald, I know mental health is difficult. But it's our job to keep you safe."

"I DON'T WANT TO BE SAFE!" He wrote. 

"Life is worth living."

"NOT WHEN YOU'RE ME."

Dr. Pauz sighed. Unfortunately he was about to have bad news for Donald and he could already tell the duck would not take it well. 

"Donald. The state of Calisota has requirements for involuntary commitment to the psychiatric ward. And you've met them all." 

Donald's face read exactly what he suspected it might. Anger. Fear. Confusion. Sadness. He still spoke not a word or even a noise escape him. But the levels or hurt on his face screamed.

"I understand you're upset but it's the law. We'll start with 48 hours under observation and two talks with the psychiatrist. And then we'll move forward from there." 

Donald sat there still speechless. His mind was racing so fast that he couldn't grasp a thought. Of all the rotten luck!

"You'll be staying in here for the next 48 hours. Meals will be brought to you. I'll be popping in a few times to check on you as well as being seen by the psychiatrist. It'll be over before you know it," the doctor tried to encourage Donald. He also attempted to offer his hand again however this time Donald refused to shake it.

"If you let us help you, you will feel better."

"Not this time," Donald snapped, his harsh voice filling the room. He winced and buried his face. "Not this time." He heard the door quietly click. He was once again alone. 

Alone. Alone and afraid. Alone and afraid and suicidal. Wow he felt pathetic. A heavy sigh left him as he laid back down. The old analog clock that quietly ticked told him it was just after 8 am. This was gonna be a long day. There was remote to the TV and few magazines within reach but Donald didn't feel like moving. He just laid there. Feeling empty and numb. Then angry. Then sad. Then back to numb. Gosh his head was a mess! 

Slowly his thoughts went back to the family. Surely they all know what happened by now. And surely they must hate him for it. They were probably very disappointed in him for not succeeding. He knew he was. 

* * *

The rest of the drive home was quiet. Launchpad's focus on the road was so good even that it was completely crashless. Once they arrived Scrooge quietly thanked Launchpad before heading inside. The front door opened before Scrooge, Beakley stood there holding it. Weakly he greeted her. 

"How is he?" She asked. The floor seemed to sway under him at that question. The very thought made his brain ache and his heart ache even further. 

"It's...it's not good Beakley." 

With a tighter grip on his cane, he attempted to steady himself. 

"I need to tell the rest of the family what happened. Where are the kids?"

"Still in their rooms sir. They've been up most of the night awaiting your return. Might I suggest waiting for them to wake up on their own?" Beakley quietly asked.

"Aye. It's been a long night for sure. I'm sure the wee ones won't be up until-" 

The sound of feet interrupted the two. They turned to look at the top of the stairs and spotted the 4 ducklings waiting anxiously at the top. 

"Or we can have that discussion now. Alright kids. Come on down," Scrooge encouraged them. Quietly the 4 came down. Once on the bottom level Scrooge could get a better look at them. All of them had bleary red eyes and ruffled feathers. Clearly they hadn't gotten much sleep. Well. He couldn't exactly say he was surprised. 

"Mom's gonna be down in just a minute," Dewey said with a yawn. 

"Uh kids. Why don't ya all wait in the living room while we wait for yer mum? I need a minute before. Before..."

"Yes Uncle Scrooge," the kids all said and walked away. Once they were out of sight Scrooge let out a long sigh.

"What are you going to tell them?" Beakley asked. A tiny of worry to her voice. 

"Well. Not telling these kids the truth didn't work so well the last time. So...yes. I will tell them the truth. I won't tell them the worst details but they need to know." 

"I understand. And I agree Scrooge. This is...this is going to affect them harshly, to put it mildly," Beakley said.

"Aye. Well. Can ya please see to it that the kids get some water?" 

Of course sir," Beakley said as she took off for the kitchen. Once again Scrooge was alone with his thoughts. The dread was knotting in his stomach worse than a Celtic Knot. No one was going to take this news well. Nor should they! It's a terrible thing period!

Scrooge still couldn't quite wrap his head around the things Donald was saying. What did he mean he lost the kids!? What kind of nonsense was that?! Didn't he know how much they valued him! How he was basically their father!? And why was he still holding onto pain from so long ago? Why couldn't he move on?

Thoughts continued to form and blur in his mind until a distinctive voice broke through.

"Uncle Scrooge?" 

He opened his eyes to see Della standing before him. Gosh it was truly a sight he'd never get tired of. Having her back meant more to him than he could ever say. 

And now he was going to have to be the one to tell her that her twin brother tried to kill himself.

With a wince he tried to bury the thought for the moment. 

"Ehm. Uh I sent the kids to the living room. We uh. We're to talk about what happened yesterday." 

"Is Donnie okay Uncle Scrooge? Please you have to tell me what happened," Della begged. Her fear shined brightly in her eyes. This was perhaps the most worry he'd seen on her face since the whole Moonvasion incident. Oh Donald. How could you not feel loved when your sister is clearly so worried about you? 

"Lass, I will tell everyone all at once. Let's go," He held out his arm for her and she immediately clung to it. The two walked in silence to the living room. Beakley had set the kids up each with a tray with water, a PB&J sandwich and for the boys, their daily medication. Everyone was finishing up just as the two walked into the room.

"You boys take your meds?" Della asked. The triplets agreed in unison. Beakley cleared away the trays as Scrooge and Della took their seats. Once Beakley and Launchpad were joined back in with them, Scrooge began.

"As everyone knows we had...well. An incident yesterday. That we had to call the ambulance for. And yes I know you kids have already noticed it was for yer Uncle Donald..." he paused as he tried to carefully chose his next words. Curses there was no easy way to tell them what needed to be said. 

"Donald is at the hospital right now. And I suspect he will need to stay there for some time. I don't know exactly how long..."

The expecting looks on everyone's face (with exception of Beakley who looked more like she was uncomfortable) made Scrooge feel worse. 

"He ehm. He's. He's going through something very difficult right now. Something we need to give him patience and love if he's going to get through it-"

"No offense Uncle Scrooge but can you please stop beating around the tree and tell us what happened?" Dewey interrupted. 

"The phrase is actually 'beat around the bush' Dewey," Huey corrected him.

"Bush, tree, same dif. Just tell us already!" Dewey insisted. 

"Well uh. There's no easy way to say what I'm about to say. But. If you insist." Scrooge swallowed almost painfully. "Donald attempted to end his own life." 

Scrooge wasn't too sure what to expect after he spoke. The overwhelming silence was not it. Everyone sat there with jaws dropped. Glances of disbelief flew around the room. Until Della broke the quiet.

"No way! Not my brother!" 

"Lass. I was there when he woke up. He insisted on it."

"No way! Stop pulling at my leg Uncle Scrooge or I'll beat you with my other one!"

"I'm not lying to you! I still cannae believe it myself! But I couldn't find any prove of an intruder! And Donald insisted he did it to himself! I don't want to believe it but I cannae ignore what I saw and heard!"

Della seemed to sink into her chair. She looked so small and child like for a moment. And then she began to sob like a child too. 

"No no no no you can't be right. Donnie! Donnie would never! Not after..."

"Mental health is a battle many face on their own. Many don't tell others, especially not their loved ones what's really going on in their heads. In order to protect them. I believe that Donald was trying to protect us all from his thoughts," Beakley stated.

"But we just saw him yesterday! He was fine! Maybe a little tired looking but that's normal! He smiled at us right before we left for groceries, remember mom? He couldn't have done this!" Huey cried. 

"Now lad, I know this is hard to accept but it-"

"No! I refuse to accept it! There's no way Uncle Donald would do this to us! Not after everything we've been through!" Huey insisted. 

"Oh come on _Hubert_. Can you really think he wouldn't do this! Uncle Donald is a mess!" Dewey angrily snapped. 

"Guys please, it'll be okay! Like Uncle Scrooge said! We just have to show Donald some love and patience as he gets better!" Webby chimed in. The uneasy look on her face betrayed her cheerful voice. Clearly she wasn't as okay with this as she was pretending to be.

"I can't believe he would do this to us. And just when we got mom back!" Louie began to cry. He pulled on the strings of his hoodie in order to hide his face then buried himself into his arms. Launchpad had also begun to cry, earning him a sympathetic shoulder pat from Beakley. 

"Now now listen to me, everyone please. We are going to get through this. Donald was not successful in his attempt. As I said he's at the hospital. They will take good care of him. We as his family need to help him understand whatever bad thoughs he's thinking that led to this are wrong! Everything will be okay. We've survived much together, we'll survive this too. What do ya say family?" Scrooge finished his speech with a hopeful expectant look. Huey and Webby both nodded. Louie had at least pulled himself out of his hoodie a little and at least stopped his crying a little. Launchpad wiped his tears and also nodded along with Beakley. Dewey sat there, arms crossed, looking angrily at the couch beneath him. Della held the same pose.

"If Donald was stupid enough to do something like this than he doesn't deserve to be in this family!" She cried as she jumped up and walked briskly from the room. Dewey jumped off the couch and glared at Scrooge. 

"I agree. He's not my Uncle anymore," he gritted through his teeth and followed after Della. 

"Wait Dewey! You don't mean that!" Launchpad called after his friend and followed him out of the room. A stunned silence fell across the room. 

"No..." Webby quietly let out. Scrooge let out a sigh. Not what he expected however it was understandable. This was not going to be easy for anyone. He turned his focus back to other kids.

"Now kids listen to me. I want ya all to stay off of yer Uncle's boat for the time being alright? I'm going to have that blasted thing moved from me pool." 

"Oh wow your nephew tried to kill himself and you're worried about your pool. Classic Scrooge," sassed Louie.

"It's not about the pool Louie! I don't want Donald staying on that death trap once he's out of the hospital! Removing it will force him to stay in the mansion! I've been wanting him to rejoin us for some time anyway. Now he'll have to."

"Oh," Louie said as his cheeks flushed a little pink. Guess that was a little pre judgemental of him. 

"I know this won't be easy. I'm still...what do you kids say "mind blown"? Gah. This is hard on me as well," Scrooge got off his chair and scooped the three remaining kids into his arms and hugged them tightly.

"But we'll get through this together. I promise." 

Weak smiles made it into the kids faces. Scrooge smiled warmly in return. He silently sat them back down. 

"I need to attend to some work now kids but um...I'll see ya at lunch." He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a 20 dollar bill. He handed it to Huey. "Why don't you kids grab Dewey and go on down to Funzos?" Their smiles all grew with that suggestion. He then planted a small kiss on their heads and walked away.

"Wow, he's never given us so much before," Huey commented.

"Quick let's go before he changes his mind," added Louie.

"Granny, is it okay if I go down to Funzos with the boys?" Webby turned to Beakley and asked. 

"Yes dear, go on and get out of the house for a while. Be sure to take your phone and call me if you need anything," encouraged Beakley. 

The three kids ran upstairs to grab their things. Before entering the boys room however, Huey stopped and knocked.

"Hey Dewey? Are you in there?" 

"Go away Huey."

Huey slowly opened the door. "Uncle Scrooge gave us some money. We're going down to Funzos. Do you want to come?"

Dewey was hidden under his blanket with his back to the door. He turned to look at Huey, his eyes were red. 

"Um...yeah. Just gimme a few to get ready." 

"Okay," said Huey with a thumbs up. He closed the door and turned to Louie. "Let's give him a few before we grab our stuff."

"Sounds good." 

"Alright let me go grab my bag. Be right back," Webby said as she skipped down the hall. Now the two brothers were standing alone in the hallway. 

"Do you really think he could have done it?" Huey quietly asked. The weight of the question hung in the air. It felt like it might crush Louie if he ignored it for too long. He didn't want to say what he was really thinking but the pressure weighed on him. 

"I don't want to believe it. But...think about how hard life has been for Uncle Donald. How much he tried to protect us from the fact that we were broke or that he wasn't eating so we could have enough or how he wasn't sleeping. Not to mention we've...we've been really mean to him the past month."

"I still can't believe we forgot our medication. That's an important part of our daily routine and we just missed it for several weeks."

"There was an alien invasion Huey. Nothing went back to normal right way." 

"But it's been a part of our routine for over a year. I still can't believe I forgot them at least," Huey said pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes in shame.

"It's okay Huey. It really is. At least we know our meds do help?" Louie offered. Huey shrugged.

"True I guess. But. I. Gosh Louie I was so mean to Uncle Donald..."

"I was too Huey. I said a bunch of stuff I'm regretting right now too."

"Do you think there's anything we can do to help him? I can't lose Uncle Donald. Even though we've got mom now I just can't lose him too." Huey, the smartest sibling, the oldest sibling, the one usually with a good plan, looked so lost and scared. Louie hugged his brother. 

"I don't know. Not yet. But we'll figure it out okay? Plan or con, we'll make it happen. Together. Okay?" Huey's eyes shined at his brother's words. He returned the hug.

"Okay."

The door to their room opened up. Dewey was standing there, looking more like his usual self including a big grin. His eyes however still had an obvious red tint to them.

"Okay! Who's ready to roll to Funzos? Where the fun is in the zone!" Dewey cried. 

"Just give us a minute Dewey we need our bags." 

The two grabbed their bags quickly and Webby joined them soon afterwards.

"Alright! Ready to go!?" She gleefully asked.

"Yeah!"

* * *

The phone in Scrooge's office rang. Hd picked it up instantly. 

"Hello Mr. McDuck? This is Dr. Pauz. I have an update on your nephew."

"Yes how is he?" Scrooge quickly asked, his concern evident in his voice.

"Well sir. Under the requirements set by the state, I have to keep Donald in the hospital for the next 48 hours." 

"I understand. Thank ya doctor," Scrooge said then hung up the phone. He removed his hat and placed his head down on his desk. This was going to be a long difficult journey. Why couldn't he just scoop Donald into his arms and hold him close? Tell him everything would be alright and sing him a Gaelic song and feel the fear and all the other bad things melt away from his little body? When did his son become such a stranger? 

"Hortence. Quackmore. Please forgive me," he softly begged out loud. 

* * *

A knock on the door stirred Donald. He jumped, unaware he had even fallen back asleep. A click followed by the door opening further got his attention. He tried to quickly shake away the groggy feeling. In walked a duck with a clipboard. This must be the psychiatrist. 

"Hello Donald, my name is Dr. Shell. I'm the psychiatrist that will be working with you over the next two days," he said with his hand held out. Again with the shaking hands ugh. Donald squeezed his eyes shut and weakly shook. This time it felt more like lightening blasting through his hand. He yanked his hand back quickly. Dr. Shell wrote something down before taking a seat beside Donald. 

"How are you feeling today Donald?" 

How was he feeling? He slept a lot and had breakfast some time ago. He was also breathing on his own again so a nurse had removed his oxygen tube, heart beat reader, and IV used to flush the pills out of his system. Admittedly he was feeling okay. Then again mentally the turmoil was still there. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? 

"I don't really know," he finally said. "I think I'm okay physically but my mind is..." he trailed off.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being completely fine and 10 being suicidal, can you tell me how you're feeling right now?" 

"Um...I don't know maybe a 5?" Donald guessed. The doctor nodded and continued to write.

"Do you have a history of mental illness?" 

"Yes. I was diagnosed with PTSD when I was discharged from the Navy."

"Did you get any help for that?"

"No," Donald recalled bitterly. "I was suppose to be. The VA kept denying me visits. Despite my supposed benefits." 

"So do you believe PTSD could play a role on your suicide attempt? Or is there something else going on?" Dr. Shell asked.

"Yes. And no. What's it matter!" Donald groaned. 

"It matters because I need to diagnose you properly in order for you to get help. I'm going to be giving you several tests here shortly to understand your state of being and thus diagnose you with everything that's applicable to you," Dr. Shell calmly explained. 

"Whatever." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Because no matter what you diagnose me with, it doesn't matter. My life has been hell for as long as I can remember and I'm tired of fighting it. Every day is a struggle for me. I just want to be at peace." 

"Don't you have any loved ones who would be affected and hurt by your loss? Friends? Family? Kids?" 

Donald strongly winced when Dr. Shell said kids. He found himself unable to look at the doctor. And of course anxiety began to grip at him. The kids, oh how they must hate him.

"They're not my kids. Not anymore," he choked out. Tears began to fall from his eyes faster than he could control. His breathing became gaspy. 

"Where are you on the scale Donald?" 

Thoughts raced in his mind. He loved all four of those kids with everything in him. But they weren't his to love. It was inevitable. They would outgrow him. They would no longer need him. And like everyone else in his life, they would leave him. He was a disappointment and a failure to them just as he was to everyone else. Della was back. She could provide everything he could and so much more. She was functional despite her struggles unlike him. And they all loved her! Why was everyone so determined to "save" him when he didn't want to be saved! 

He tried to speak but what came out was wheeze. He began to sign out "10. I'm at 10."

"Donald, Donald, focus on my voice. Listen to me please. It's okay Donald," Dr. Shell attempted to ease the hurting duck. Donald began to rock himself and attempted to use a technique he and Jones had worked on back when Donald was in anger management. Rocking himself and trying to imagine the ocean. Breath in with the wave and exhale when the wave hit the shore. Long and slow. Just like the calm water. Rock in time with the waves. You're on the water. Water good. Imagine the sound of the waves. Imagine the feel of it on his feet. He was struggling to picture it with the intrusive thoughts breaking his concentration but it was helping a little at least. Dr. Shell's voice began to override Donald's intrusive thoughts. Soon he was breathing at the same pace as Dr. Shell encouraged. 

"In, Donald. And out. In slowly. Out slower. That's it. You're doing good, it's okay. You're safe." 

Finally after some time Donald managed to achieve calmness. He opened his eyes and immediately starred at the floor. Shame washed over him like a wave. 

"Are you alright now Donald?" Dr. Shell asked. He sighed in response. Then shook his head no. 

"Do you want to talk about what set you off like that?" 

"My kids. I mean. Well. Not my kids anymore..."

"Can you explain?" 

Donald sighed heavily again. Guess it was just time to face the music. He couldn't avoid it forever. Much as that was preferable. Part of him cringed. He felt pathetic and judged. And honesty already got him stuck here for two days. But on the other hand it had been so long since anyone listened to him. He always felt so much better after seeing Jones. Fine. Whatever. 

"My life has always been difficult. My parents died when my twin sister and I were little. We were sent to live with our uncle and he well uh...wasn't very kind. At least not to me. And my voice obviously uh. Well. You can hear it. I sound terrible. And everyone hates it. I have a terrible temper that gets me into a lot of trouble. I've had few friends in my life and they tend to always leave me. In fact...Everyone I ever care about does. Everyone I care about die or they leave me. I was in the Navy for 4 years. I know I didn't have it as bad as some do but I've seen battle. I have PTSD left over from that. I can't hold a job. I somehow manage to fuck everything up in my life. My sister was missing for 10 years. And now she's back but she doesn't care about me any. My uncle and I fought to the point of not speaking. We've been trying to reconnect but now with my sister being back he stopped trying with me. She was always his favorite. Everybody is sick of me and they want me gone. Especially the kids...I just...I feel like my life has just been moving from one tragic event to another. And for the most part I've always found a reason to keep going. But now I just don't think I can take it anymore." 

"Because of your kids?"

Donald hugged himself tightly. The kids...the kids he watched hatch and raised and named and loved. The bonus one that unexpectedly found a place in his heart right next to the others. All of them so equally loved...

"They aren't my kids. They're my sister's kids. Three boys. I've raised them since they were eggs. My sister disappeared right before they hatched. And my uncle's housekeeper has a granddaughter their age. I take care of her some as well. Those four...I love them so much. And now they hate me," Donald choked on that last sentence. It hurt more than he could say to say that. He wanted to hug them all so badly right now. Wanted desperately for it to just be a bad dream. To wake back up on his houseboat and see the kids all smiling as they readied up for their next adventure. But it wasn't reality. 

"...And is this what led you to make the decision you made?" Dr. Shell asked cautiously. Donald slowly nodded. 

"Some level of fighting is normal. Have you considered family counseling?" 

"It's not about the fighting! It's! It's about! Gah!" Donald yelled. "I just can't keep doing this! I can't keep living from one tragedy to the next! Those kids were the only good thing to ever happen to me! And now they hate me! They want nothing to do with me! I'm tired of fighting the world! Without them I just...I'm lost." His anger gave away to sadness as he started to cry again. Good lord he felt incredibly pathetic. He must sound so stupid. If he was even understood in the first place. The doctor at least seemed to understand him thankfully. 

"Are you sure you are understanding the situation correctly?" Dr. Shell asked. This stumped Donald. His tears stopped flowing as he tried to think of what the heck the doc had meant by this. 

"I don't understand. What do you mean?" He finally relented and asked. 

"Well, sometimes our perception isn't accurate to reality. Especially in people who are mentally ill. When someone already thinks very negatively about themselves, they tend to project their own negative self image onto others, thinking they feel the same way."

"Oh. Well. No. That's not what's going on. They told that they hate me. And that they want nothing to do with me."

Dr. Shell looked a touch surprised. He wrote down some more stuff before continuing. 

"I see. Donald...that may be very hurtful to experience but it doesn't mean your life is over. For one thing, just because the kids say this now doesn't mean you can't all overcome this. If you give up now, you all won't be able to make up. And do you really want those kids to be left with the memory that the last thing they told you was that they hate you? It would devastate them!"

Donald listened to what the doctor was saying but shook his head no.

"I went missing for a month myself. They didn't notice or care. They've got their mom back now. That's all they've ever wanted. I'm not needed anymore." 

"Now Donald that's not true. They may have their mom back but you still raised them. You said you raised them by yourself? You know them best! Additionally you still have your sister and your uncle in your life. You said she was missing 10 years? I'm certain she does still care about you but may be having trouble reconnecting with you. And Donald most of all," Dr. Shell paused to lean forward and lightly grip Donald's hand. "Even if it was all true. Even if they all hated you and didn't want you, you can still move past it. Yes it would hurt so badly. More than words could say! But it doesn't have to be the end."

Donald trembled at the doctor's words. Much as he seemed to be speaking from a good heart, everything he was saying felt so wrong. He pulled his hand away from the doctor's grip. 

"What's in your mind Donald?" Asked the doctor. 

"How I want to believe you. And how I don't." He answered honestly.

"These negative feelings you have, the hurt inside you, it won't go away with just one session. And that's okay. You have years of pain and trauma to work through. If it takes years to break it down, so be it. You are still worth it Donald. You still deserve to have life," Dr. Shell said sincerely. He smiled encouragingly. 

For the life of him, Donald couldn't understand why it wasn't encouraging in the least. As kind as Dr. Shell seemed, Donald couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in him. Sure he'd read stories of people who failed suicide attempts and later came to say that is was a blessing they failed. He thought it would make him feel better. Reality was they only made him feel worse. They only made him feel more like a failure. Death still only seemed the only option. And like everything else in life he couldn't do that right either. 

Donald laid back and closed his eyes. His mind slowly sank away.

* * *

Scrooge kept losing his place in the file he was supposed to be reading. He had another meeting with the Board coming up soon and has always he had to be ready. But today it just wasn't happening. He couldn't stop thinking of Donald. His mind kept going over all the what ifs. How could this have happened? It still felt like a nightmare. The crumpled letter Scrooge tried to smooth back out lay on his desk. He reread it over and over again looking for evidence of a villain. It was painful to accept that there was none. That these words really did come from his Donald. His tired eyes read through the note again.

_Dear Uncle Scrooge,_

_I'm sorry. I know this might be coming out of nowhere. But the truth is, I've felt like this for so many years. I've wanted to end my life for so long. I didn't want anyone to know. I've always kept it to myself. I've always found something to keep fighting for. Now, I'm tired of fighting. I don't have the strength for it anymore. I'm almost 40 and I have nothing to show for it. I've done my best for the boys. Now they don't need me. They've got their mom back and you as well. The two of you can provide more for them than I ever will be able to. Please above all else keep them safe. It's the only thing I dare ask of you. They love you so much and I know you love them, but please don't make the same mistake you made before._

_I'm sorry. I know I'm a disappointment in your eyes. I know I don't measure up to you or ever will. I hope maybe you'll forgive me for that. I've left you my boat in my will. It's completely fixed. Everything works. It'll still be worth a few thousand at least. Hopefully whatever you can get from selling it will make you happy._

_I won't waste anymore of your time. After all "time is money" you say. Please take good care of the boys and Della. Please keep them safe. Love them with all your heart._

_Goodbye. - Donald._

Yep. Still hurt. More than words could say or alliteration could allude to.

And above all, Donald's hurt and hatred for himself shined brightly. In his final words he had nothing to say about himself except negative things. And he truly believed he wasn't loved. It left a bitter taste in Scrooge's mouth. Donald's letter felt so cold. That even in his final words he was still holding Scrooge at arm's length. Not an "I love you" to be found but not an "I hate you" either. No fire. No passion. No light. Only cold. Cold like the way Scrooge's blood ran when he discovered Donald. 

What a nightmare. It had been only yesterday. It was supposed to be a nice family night. It was supper time and the kids, Della, Launchpad, Beakley, and himself were all sat down at the table. The only one missing was Donald. What were they even having for supper? It was something special wasn't it? Scrooge couldn't recall. All he could remember was his irritation at Donald. Where was the lad? He was invited earlier in the day, he knew he was supposed to be here. 

"Shall I go get him sir?" Beakley had asked him. 

"No no, you worry about the food. I'll go get him," Scrooge had said, frustration evident in his tone. That blasted boy always having to be invited to things as if he didn't think he was a part of this family...where was his spine!? If he was going to have to invite Donald to dinner every night he was going to have to have words with him...

The night was calm, the sun still setting. Barely a breeze in the sky. A good night to spend with the family. And truly, it was so good to have them all under one roof again. Well. Mostly. Scrooge looked upon the boat floating in his pool with disdain. Why on earth Donald was still so insistent on living in that death trap was a mystery to him. And a mystery he wasn't sure even he could solve. Well, for as much as the blasted thing fell apart and exploded and such, at least Donald knew how to repair it well. He did so well in fact that if Scrooge hadn't known better, he would have thought it was brand new. However he did know better. And he knew this boat was trouble. And that it was part of the way his nephew held him at arm's length. 

As he carefully boarded the houseboat, he mentally decided it was high time they discussed at length having Donald move back in. Donald had made a very interesting comment the other day about the value of the boat. As in money. Was he planning on selling it? The thought made Scrooge very happy. If he sells it then he'll move back in! Then his family really will be all back together under one roof! Scrooge had a good smile on his face as he knocked on the door. 

But no answer came. 

Okay, let's try this again. He knocked a bit louder. 

Still nothing from inside. 

Well. That was irritating. Bad enough already that Scrooge had to come out here to invite him to dinner but now this? Couldn't even have the courtesy to answer the dang nab door! He knew Donald was here, that cursed old car of his was still in the driveway. So what the heck? 

He knocked loudly a third time.

"Donald! Get out here ya fool. I shouldn't have to invite ya to dinner every night!" 

And still only silence from within. Scrooge huffed in frustration and walked right in. It had been a while since he was last in here. It looked nice, the inside was well kept. And the pictures on the wall made him smile. He clearly missed out on so much. Donald captured many beautiful moments of the kids at all ages. The pictures here were pretty exclusive to the kids though. None of Donald himself without the kids or of him or Della. It hurt a little. Perhaps Donald really didn't see himself as part of the family. After all it had been just him and the boys for so long...

Scrooge shook his head and decided not to worry about that. Instead he switched his train of thought to how good these pictures will look hanging in the mansion once Donald sold this boat. But enough dilly dally. He was supposed to be fetching the lad. He turned away from the captivating wall of pictures and headed further into the boat. Donald wasn't anywhere to be found! What the blases...oh wait. His bedroom! Should have checked there first. Perhaps Donald fell asleep was all. 

He pushed his way inside surprised to see that's exact what was happening. Donald was fast asleep in his hammock. That was a bit surprising since it was still so early. Must be a long nap. Donald looked so peaceful that for a moment Scrooge considered turning and leaving him to rest. No. No, it was time for him to come join the family for supper. 

Scrooge walked up to Donald and gently shook him and softly called his name. No reaction. He tried a bit harder and still Donald didn't stir. The feathers on the back of Scrooge's neck started to stand on edge. Something was very wrong. He shouted but Donald was still so very still and silent. And that was when Scrooge realized that Donald wasn't breathing. 

Panic began to overtake him! What was going on!? Why wasn't he breathing!? Fuck! Scrooge pushed Donald out of his hammock and he fell to the floor with a hard thud and no reaction. Scrooge flipped him over and listened for his heart. It was there! Oh gods and devils there was one but it was faint! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!

"Donald! Donald my boy! Wake up!" He screamed as he began applying CPR but Donald still didn't respond. "No no no no! No lad! Come back to me lad! Come back! Don't you do this to me son, you are not allowed to die before me ya hear?!" His arms pounded hard into Donald's torso trying to kickstart his breathing but it wasn't working! He needed help! 

He ran out the front door of the boat and let out a scream! 

"BENTINA!!! DUCKWORTH!!!" 

With his scream, the spirit appeared instantly at his side. Scrooge was already back beside Donald performing CPR again.

"Duckworth, do not let anyone but Beakley out of the mansion! I cannae let the kids see what's happened here!" 

Duckworth looked incredibly upset at the sight before him but wordlessly nodded and immediately departed back for the house. Moments later, Beakley arrived, she had clearly come running the second she heard him call. 

"What's happening?" She quickly demanded as she ran on board. She gasped at the sight of Scrooge performing CPR on Donald. 

"I can't get him to breathe!" Scrooge cried.   
Panic continued to overcome him. Why couldn't he get Donald to breathe!? If he couldn't get him to breathe soon they were going to...going to lose him! He was only vaguely aware that he started crying. His arms were hurting from the motions of CPR but he refused to stop. The next events were a bit of a blur to Scrooge. Beakley called for an ambulance right away. Or was it him? No he was fairly certain it was Beakley who called them. She told him something but his ears were ringing. He couldn't quite make out whatever it was she said. Then she was taking over CPR. Had she grabbed him and physically pulled him away? Or had he succumbed to exhaustion? Too uncertain in his memory. The ambulance arrived quickly it seemed. Thank heavens! Then he remembered Beakley having to physically hold him back as the paramedics carried Donald into the ambulance. He remembered screaming and crying. His screaming and crying. He wanted so desperately for them to save him but he didn't want them to take him! 

"Please my son! Save my son!" He specifically remembered screaming. 

After that he wasn't fully sure what happened. He was pretty certain Beakley gripped him tightly until the ambulance had left. Only then did she free him from her strong arms. He didn't even have the strength to stand. He simply collapsed.

For how long was he a crumpled mess on the ground he wasn't sure. He could really only remember the tingly numbness of his muscles and the sirens ringing in his ears. Had he wondered back into the boat on his own? Everything hurt. Everything was numb. Was he alone? No he was pretty certain he could sense Beakley still. He did remember looking at the pictures on the wall once again and he cried further. Oh right Beakley was there. He could remember her putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. She probably said something as well but he couldn't remember. He looked around the boat. Everything felt so off and nightmarish he almost expected the floor to open up beneath him and swallow him into a pit of darkness. Somehow Scrooge was able to still walk and he made his way back into Donald's room. It was then that he spotted them. A large bottle of alcohol and some pills. And a stack of letters. Scrooge looked over the pill bottles then stuffed them in his pocket. He wasn't familiar with what these were. Probably poison of some kind. The bottle would need to be examined as well. There was hardly anything left in it but surely if it was poisoned he would be able to find out. Yes. Yes that had to be what happened! Somebody poisoned him! Or...something! Yes clearly that's what happened here! He then grabbed the stack of letters. There was multiple regular sized letters and one large manilla envelope. The regular letters he realized were all addressed to the family. Scrooge. Huey. Dewey. Louie. Webby. Beakley. Launchpad. Della. The manilla envelope only had the word "Legal" written on the outside. 

With a shaking hand he ripped open the one addressed to him. He read through the note inside. It did appear to be written by Donald, it was his handwriting at least...

Oh how dastardly! Anger overcame him! He crumpled the note and buried it in his pocket! So! The villain attacked Donald, poisoned him or put him under a curse of something, and staged a suicide attempt to trick him! A devilishly cruel plan! Beakley said something but he drowned her out with denial. What happened here was clearly an attack! These pills, these letters, all part of a plot against him! Oh! And his hands! Donald had defensive wounds on his hands! Scrooge had seen them! That's it! He would have to go to the hospital and be by Donald's side once he was awake. Hopefully the lad would have some clue as to who attacked him! It made him utterly quake in fury! Who the hell was so bold as to think they could hurt his family like this!? When he got his hands on them, he, Scrooge McDuck was going to make them-!

"Mr. McDuck! Are you alright!?" Beakley's voice snapped Scrooge back into the present! He gasped and just about fell out of his chair. 

"Aye ehm uh what? Yes yes I'm alright. Just lost in thought," he brushed it off. Beakley was standing there with a tray of lunch for Scrooge. And was not buying it.

"Sir, you're crying."

"I am not! It's just ehm a wee bit of dry eyes," he quickly defended himself. Truthfully he hadn't realized he teared up thinking of yesterday. But then again, how could he not? He wiped his tears away further continuing to act like he was fine. Beakley sat down the tray then crossed her arms. She still wasn't buying it. Well. That's what he gets for having a spy for a house keeper. 

"Sorry Beakley. It's just well. I. I cannae stop thinking about yesterday and today at the hospital," he surrendered and admitted. 

"What happened when you were at the hospital?" 

Scrooge winced. He didn't want to remember the pain in Donald's eyes. How he pushed him away. But he had to face the situation head on. Denial was pointless.

"Donald woke up. And he confirmed it. It was just as you said Beakley. There was no villain on that boat. Except perhaps Donald's own mind. He...he really did try to kill himself."

Beakley looked saddened but not surprised. Granted she was in the family meeting and already knew this but being alone with Scrooge, seeing how much it really affected him rather than the strong head of the house front he played for everyone...it hurt to say the least. 

"I didn't....no I don't want to believe he could have done this to himself," Scrooge continued. "Why didn't he tell me he felt like this? Why? Why did he do this? Why can't I just fix this..." He fell quite as his eyes turned back to the suicide note. To think if he had been even a few minutes later...

"I've known many who've been in the same mindset. And I've known many who...who succeeded where Donald failed," Beakley carefully spoke. "Many good SHUSH agents, hurt and traumatized by things seen and done on missions. Many nights I spent with some of them trying to help them find something to keep fighting for. I wish I could say I knew some secret to making it all better. But I don't. Everyone who goes through this pain goes through it differently." Beakley had to pause and steady herself a little. She was on verge of crying, thinking of the many friends who nearly gave up. And of the ones who did. But she gained composure and continued. 

"I think you said it best Scrooge. Love and patience. It's the best way to support Donald for now." Her smile at the end lifted Scrooge's spirits some. He finally looked at the lunch she brought him and grabbed the tea. 

"I was just thinking yesterday how that boy and I need to have a talk about him moving back in. I was just thinking of how the way his pictures on the boat made me feel like maybe he doesn't see himself as family...this is all my fault." Scrooge hung his head low. "I care about him so much. And I haven't shown him enough. I regret it so much right now."

"Scrooge, this is not your fault. And now is your chance to show him how much you care."

"I tried to. He...he pushed me away. He screamed at me. He told me that he's not my son. And they're keeping him for the next 48 hours at least because he was insistent that he was going to just do it again!"

"Give him time Scrooge," Beakley encouraged. He sighed.

"But I want to fix things now!" He grumped. "I want him home! And safe! And to accept that I love him as if here were my own son!" 

"I understand. But give him time. Hopefully soon he'll open up more and we'll work from there." 

She was right and he knew it. And she knew it as well. He slumped in his chair. A sign of defeat. She smiled at that, knowing she had gotten through to him. 

"Now I suggest you eat and get back to work. Don't stress about Donald. He will be fine at the hospital. You've got a company to run." 

"Oh very well," Scrooge sighed. Beakley smiled and turned to leave. "Ehm. Uh Beakley? Thank you. For everything," he added. 

"Of course," she said before leaving. 

Now once again Scrooge was left alone with his thoughts. This time however he felt more optimistic about the situation. Yes it would be like no adventure he'd gone on before. But he knew somehow, just like all the others, he would succeed. 

* * *

"Donald? What did you say?"

Instantly Donald's eyes snapped back open. He rubbed his forehead groaning lightly. A headache was forming and he was tired.

"Sorry. Donald, I couldn't understand what you were saying. You were kinda muttering," Dr. Shell explained. Donald put his hands together and looked off to the side.

"I just um...I was thinking about what pushed me to this point," he admitted. 

"Are you ready to talk more about it?" 

Donald couldn't fully decide how he was feeling. Tired? Angry? Guilty? Sad? Blah. Too much all tangled together. Tangling and trapping him, pulling him under and suffocating him. It was exhausting. It was painful. Aw phooey. Why did everything have to be so complicated and frustrating!? 

He sat back and and clamped his hands together. You know what? Fuck it. He was tired of hurting! 

"Yeah...I wanna talk about it," Donald finally relented. Dr. Shell smiled. 

Aw phooey. Now he committed to talking about it. His drive suddenly dropped and he didn't feel like talking anymore. Donald shook his head. No. He was going to talk about it this time. No backing down. Ducks don't back down! 

"Look my...my mental health has been bad for a long time. I've had issues with feeling depressed and anxious for years. But um. I just. I haven't felt like ending my life in years before now," he started cautiously. It was incredible how just those few sentences made him start to feel lighter. Dr. Shell looked as though he actually was invested and was actually listening. Wow that was definitely a foreign feeling to Donald. 

"So about when did these feelings begin again Donald?" He asked. 

"Probably...in May. After the Moonvasion." 

"That was an incredibly challenging experience," Dr. Shell agreed. "And your family was directly involved in it."

Donald looked a touch surprised but then shook it off. There had been a pretty big news coverage on the whole thing after all. And Scrooge McDuck was of course right in the center of it all. 

"You know...it wasn't so much the actual Moonvasion itself but more of...what happened before and afterwards," Donald said. 

"How so?" 

Well. How to explain this without sounding completely insane...

"Look this is going to sounds crazy but..." then he weakly trailed off. Oh gosh he was going to sound completely delusional.

"Donald, Duckberg experienced a magical "Shadow War" at the hands of sorceress and an alien invasion in the span of a single year. The definition of crazy has changed," Dr. Shell explained with a small chuckle. Donald certainly wasn't the first patient he'd seen who lived through the two wild phenomenons. That seemed to make his patient feel a little bit better as Donald nodded a little. 

"Well um. I guess some context...my sister disappeared 10 years ago. In a rocketship that our Uncle Scrooge built for her. Supposed to be some kind of present for her to celebrate her pregnancy I guess. 'Nd she just...well she found out about it. And I couldn't stop her from running off and taking that damn thing for a 'test drive.' She got lost in a cosmic storm. Scrooge believed she was alive and that he could find her but I. I. I was certain she was dead," Donald choked out. Wow it still hurt to say after all this time. He lightly smacked himself trying to find composure. 

"Scrooge and I fought. I was so angry at him and he was equally angry at me. I couldn't take it anymore and I left. Took my sister's eggs and left. So I've raised them on my own ever since. Then back in August um. We ended up moving back in. My uh house blew up."

"Oh wow," Dr. Shell quietly stated as he wrote. 

"Yeah. And then back in April the craziest thing happened. I...I saw it! Della's ship! And I just couldn't stop myself from immediately running for it, hoping somehow, some crazy way, Della was alive all this time. I didn't find her though. She already got out and headed for home. I fell in...and got launched into space." 

Dr. Shell gave Donald a shocked look but thankfully still didn't say a word. Yeah he knew this was probably still going to sound crazy despite the doctor's casual attitude from before. 

"I was with the Moonlanders for a few days before I escaped. Or I...I think it was a few days. Their leader, Lunaris, kept me in a prison in his base. He..." Donald started to cry but attempted to steady himself. "He taunted me about Della. He beat me. He shut the oxygen off in my cell until I'd pass out. He told me all about his plan to capture earth. He wanted information from me. I couldn't provide it. And so he just beat me harder. His stupid smug face...wouldn't stop sneering at me about how he was going to make the great Scrooge McDuck kneel before him. How I was weak and powerless to stop him..."

Donald's hands flew over his ears and he screwed his eyes shut. Talking about it made the memories come rushing to the front of his mind. Lunaris's laugh echoed in his skull. His body ached phantom pains from where Lunaris struck him. Even his throat hurt, the scratching pain of screaming without oxygen felt fresh all over again. And on top of it all those eyes. Those cold, cold eyes. Colder than the vacuum of space. Cold and dead, mad with power. Eyes that took delight in his pain. Eyes that burned a freezing fire in anger when he failed to provide the information he wanted. Lunaris wanted to know about anyone who could potentially thwart his plan. Any potential threat at all. And especially he wanted to know about Scrooge. No matter how much he punched and kicked the duck or threw him into the wall or shut off the oxygen until he passed out, Donald never said a word of what he wanted. Sure there was a big factor that he didn't know the information Lunaris wanted. But regardless. Even if Donald knew everything Lunaris could have ever wanted, Donald wouldn't tell him. So with every strike, he endured. Huey. Dewey. Louie. Webby. Scrooge. Della...everyone. This was all for them. Even if it killed him. 

Donald could vaguely hear someone calling him. He began to focus on that instead of Lunaris's villainy as he slowly pulled his hands away. Right. He wasn't on the moon. Lunaris couldn't hurt him anymore. He tried to take deep breaths. 

"Are you alright?" Dr. Shell asked quietly.

"I'm sorry...I just...I could see him. I could hear him and feel him...I'm so sorry," Donald apologized and kept apologizing. 

"Hey, listen. It's okay. You don't have to apologize. Talking about hard topics is well, hard! You went through literal torture. It's okay Donald. You have nothing to apologize for," the doctor encouraged. 

Donald wiped his tears. Aw phooey this was going to be hard to get through. 

"Do you need a break?" 

"No I. No I want to keep going," Donald said with a deep breath. He could do this. 

"Um...well after a few days or however long it was I escaped. One of the Moonlanders was a friend of Della's. She helped me escape. We figured out the rest of the Lunaris's plan. We found out it would be in a month. He caught us and he was able to knock her out. But I managed to send a message to Scrooge. I tried to warn him about the invasion. And I escaped in some kind of ship. Then I crash landed on an island. I was there alone for a month. I was really injured in the crash. No food. No fresh water. No medical care. I started to go crazy," Donald chuckled in a self depreciating manner. He tugged his collar a little in embarrassment. 

"I found a weird melon. All mutated. It reminded me of my old childhood friend Mickey Mouse. I haven't seen him since gosh since we were maybe 12? I uh I started pretending he was there with me. Started trying to mimic his voice and everything. I know it's dumb," he laughed at himself again.

"Not at all Donald. Anthropomorphism is common in those who are isolated for long periods of time."

"Yeah well...it doesn't matter. It was fake. It was dumb. Just like me thinking my family cared about me and knew I was missing." Tears fell from Donald's eyes again. It was dumb to cry about it but it still felt like a knife being twisted into his heart. They didn't know! They didn't care! 

"They all thought I was on some cruise! But then my sister comes home after all these years! The boys turned 11! No one tried to get ahold of me! And then they lied to me about knowing I was missing! That's..." Donald broke into sobs.   
"Of course they don't miss me they all have Della again. She's so much better than I'll ever be...she's functional. She can speak without claming up like I do. She's brave, she's capable, she's smart, she's everyone's favorite. She can handle anything! I fall apart when someone so much as touches me or I have to speak! She doesn't sound like a dying animal like me. She's not held back by grief like me...They keep on saying they love me but their actions say otherwise. And now they don't even say they love me anymore!" He continued to sob. This. This was the core of his pain. That Donald Duck loved his family and didn't feel loved back. 

Dr. Shell remained quiet as Donald cried. This patient clearly needed a lot of help. More than he initially anticipated. However he was deeply proud of Donald for his openness so far. Patients with lots of trauma usually took longer to open up. Granted talking was only the beginning of the road to recovery but he felt optimistic that Donald would recover well. Even better than Donald believed in himself. He quietly made some notes as Donald's crying begun to slow.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Donald whispered.

"Hey. None of that. You have nothing to apologize for," Dr. Shell said. 

"But I'm being a...a baby. There are some out there who have it way worse than me," Donald countered.

"You're dealing with years of trauma. And you've only told me a little bit of your story so far. Besides, no matter how much or how little trauma you're dealing with, you are never "a baby" for crying. It's called trauma for a reason. Your trauma is your own. Don't worry about anyone else. Focus on your recovery so you can get back to your life," said the doctor kindly. 

Exhaustion hit Donald from his crying. The bed suddenly seemed very inviting. But he again shook himself. There was more weighing on him and he wanted to desperately to have the pain stop. So, for tonight, suicidal feelings were off to the side.

"You seem tired. Are you alright?"

"Yeah doctor just uh. Just feeling a little tired. But I'm not ready to take a break."

"Alright. What else do you want to talk about?" 

"After I crashed on that island and was stuck there for a month, my sister and my...her kids. Found me. During the Moonvasion. And we went through that whole mess and stopped the Moonlanders. We went home and everything seemed like it was going to go back to normal but with Della finally back. But it wasn't normal. Not for me at least. Scrooge and Della and the kids went right back to adventuring. I went back to working another crappy job that I lost really quickly. I didn't see my family much and when I did they just seemed so...bothered by my presence. Even Della who I hadn't seen in so long was too busy to spend time with me. Feels like any time we did speak was just to fight. Mostly about the kids. I just...I know she loves them. I know she wants to be the best mom ever and that she's trying to make up for the 10 years she missed. But that doesn't mean every idea she had was a good one! Some of the stuff she was doing was just downright dangerous or against the rules I put in place! And Scrooge always sided with her if he got involved! He told me to stop having a stick up my tail and to let it be Della's way! And then the kids too...they started acting so strange! They weren't themselves! I still can't believe I didn't realize it sooner but they were completely out of their medications! All the boys have a med they take every day. Huey for his autism. Dewey for his ADHD. And Louie for his anxiety. Apparently they ran out on the morning of the Moonvasion! And afterwards they just all...I just forgot to make sure they had more. I forgot to check in with them and see if they were taking them. Della had no idea about their medications. She said their behavior was just kids being kids and that they'll get over it! She didn't even try to understand why Louie was extra quiet or why Huey was feeling more agitated than usual or why Dewey couldn't focus on anything! And she had the nerve to come ask me for custody back over the kids!"

"Della didn't get custody over her kids back right away when she returned?" 

"No. First she had to become legally alive and all. Lots of legal stuff that didn't happen overnight. I guess right about the beginning of this month is when it all came back. Della Thelma Duck is legally alive again."

"And you didn't want to sign custody back over to your sister?"

"I...look. I love my sister. I do. I'm not trying to keep her kids from her but, she! She's been gone for so long! There's still so much about being a parent she doesn't know! So much she just lets happen instead of trying to be more careful! I want the kids to be safe! So...no. I didn't want to sign custody back over."

"But what would have happened if you had died Donald? Did you have any plan for that?"

"Della...Della tried to prove me wrong. That she could be the best mom. So I just...I gave her what she wanted. Last thing I could ever give her so I made it what she wanted. And what the kids wanted too. I signed the papers. Left them for her. Noted it in my will that their custody was to return to their mom." 

"But you just said that you were worried about her ability to keep the kids safe? Why not give custody to your uncle?"

"I just....wanted to make everyone happy. I thought this was the best way. Once I'm gone, they don't have to deal with me anymore. Della gets the kids and they get her. Scrooge has his favorite back and his property freed up. Besides after Della and I fought she seemed to uh. I think she listened to me a little after we fought."

Dr. Shell took notes on everything Donald was saying. A big note was added. " _Family Counseling recommended._ "

"On our birthday Della kept seeming like there was something she wanted to talk about. She called me "Don" and everything. It's always "Donald" or "Donnie." She only uses "Don" when she wants to talk about something serious. But she didn't say anything until the next day. Della just barged into my houseboat and told me she wanted custody back. That she was ready to be their mom 120%."

"And you refused her?"

"Just for now! I told her I just wanted to know if she really was ready for what this meant. She'd have to be ready to oversee schooling and doctor's visits and medical history, supporting them financially, and I asked her was she really ready for that? Was she ready to give up adventuring for them need be? The boys didn't look alright at all after their last adventure considering they were all injured and dehydrated and exhausted. And that's when she got mad at me. Started screaming at me about how awful I am for keeping them from her. Accused me of wanting to keep the boys for myself and that I would just take them away from her. I tried to tell her that wasn't it but she didn't want to listen! She just went on and on about how I'm a terrible person for doing this to her! Insisted I had no idea how hard she's been fighting to be able to get them back while I just did nothing for them. She actually thought Scrooge provided everything for them and that I did basically nothing. That's when I found out that Della didn't know we fought. And that we didn't live with Scrooge until recently. And that's also when I found out the boys didn't have their meds since the Moonvasion. And as I said, Della didn't know about them." Donald hung his head in shame. The sound of Della's yelling rattled in his brain. Why couldn't she just see it wasn't to be against her but rather for the boys!? Why did she have to think it was a personal attack?! 

"I got mad at her...I have a terrible temper," he chuckled at himself a little.   
"I uh. Just started yelling back. Yelled at her for how dare she think I did nothing when I was the only one who raised them. That Scrooge and I fought after she was lost....Scrooge had nothing to do with them for years! I raised them alone! Worked dead end jobs and long painful hours to provide everything I could for them! I went hungry so they could have enough to eat and didn't sleep so I could meet their needs! I gave them everything I could! That's not nothing! Why did she have the nerve to even think that..." Donald took a breath and attempted to calm himself. No need to be so heated. In with the tide. Out with the tide. Just like the ocean. 

"I was just so angry I couldn't stop yelling at her. I yelled at her for how badly the boys looked when they came back the day before. Yelled agout how she didn't even know that they were on medication and how important it is for them to get them every day. About why was it so wrong to live a safer life like mine instead of following in Scrooge's steps? At least with me the kids have some stability instead of always running around all the time. I make sure they went to school and had their needs met, got their daily meds..." Donald trailed off. 

"But really am I any better than her? I didn't know the kids hadn't been getting their medications since May. And with me they lived in poverty. I sheltered them a lot because I was so scared of losing them. So really...I guess I'm no better for them." Tears slipped out as he said that. That had to be the most painful thing. Despite his love and efforts, he wasn't the good parent he wanted to be. 

"So you had a fight with your sister over custody of the kids. And this was what pushed you to want to end your life?" Dr. Shell asked cautiously. 

"No. Well. I mean. It hurt. It didn't help. But that wasn't why. It's...it's cause the boys don't need me anymore. I tried to help Huey and he pushed me away. He told me he didn't need me. I tried to remind Dewey the rules and he screamed at me for babying him. Screamed how he couldn't stand me, why couldn't his mom be the parent...I tried to talk with Louie when he got overwhelmed and he yelled at me to leave me him and called me the worst....ever since I got back they don't want me around. They all three said that they hate me," Donald tried to not choke on his words. He clutched his heart. It pounded painfully saying it out loud. Yes, that was it. That was the moment when he gave up. The three boys he loved and raised, having a rare moment where the three of them spoke in unison. And they said they I hate you. 

"Looking back now...maybe it was only because they were missing their medications. But it. I. I just....I don't know anymore. I give up. I just can't do this anymore. That's why I want to die," He sighed and finally laid back on the bed.

The doctor sighed as well as he finished up another note. Donald was going to need a lot of care that's for certain. 

"So what's the verdict, doc? Am I crazy?" Donald's voice sounded scratchier than usual. It probably hurt from overuse and crying. 

"You're not crazy Donald. It's as I said. You're carrying a heavy burden of trauma. It's not easy to let it go. You feel like the only way you can let it go is to end your life but that's not true. We can work together to help you," Dr. Shell kindly said. 

"I don't believe you," Donald admitted. "Nothing and no one can help me." 

"It may seem that way now but you don't know until you try," countered Dr. Shell. 

"Why? So I can just fail again like everything else?" Donald snapped.

"So you can live a life that is better than it has been," Dr. Shell continued kindly. 

"It won't necessarily be easy but you can do it. You feel unwanted but Donald, you still have value." When Donald still didn't say anything, the doctor continued. 

"I'd like to continue seeing you Donald. And I'd like for you to see a few of our other doctors."

"Wait for what?" Donald shot upright.

"Well it's important to make sure your body is working properly. From appearances alone I can tell you don't eat much or sleep much and you said so yourself. Additionally some of your other statements lead me to suspect you have other issues that could be worked on as well. Selective mutism and haphephobia are my current guesses but you'll need to speak with the specialist for sure." 

Donald looked to the floor. Dr. Shell waited patiently as he seemed to want to say something. 

"On the...yesterday. Before I...you know. Well. I found out Della got the kids their prescription refilled and they seemed to be doing better. They were going to the grocery store I think. Della and I talked a little. She said that things were going better now that she knew about their medications. I watched them and her leave and they just....everyone looked so happy. And that's when it hit me I guess. Della could learn. The kids only needed her..." he met the doctor's eyes. 

"There's no fixing me. I'll never be good enough for my family."

"You're not broken. Only hurting."

"I'm scared," Donald admitted. "I don't think I can do this." 

"But you won't be alone. You'll have myself and the team we create for you in order to help you." 

A buzz caught their attention. Dr. Shell pulled out his phone.

"I'm sorry Donald that's all the time I have right now. I'll get the specialist to come talk with you and send another in here to draw your blood and get an idea for where your physical health is." He noticed the hopeless look still plain on Donald's face. 

"I understand your fear. I get that this feels impossible. But I believe in you. I know you can do this. You can and will recovery from your pain." 

"We'll see," Donald sighed.

"I'll be back tomorrow Donald. Have a good day," Dr. Shell said, leaving Donald once again all alone. 

* * *

What happened next was more of a big blurry blank in Donald's mind. A bandage on his arm proved someone came in and took his blood but he couldn't remember it. The empty tray on the table beside him said he ate but he couldn't remember what he had or even that he did eat. Had he left this room? Had he talked with anyone else? Hard to say. 

His focus kept going in and out. What he was even thinking on was frankly a mystery too. For some reason he just couldn't stop dissosociating. His thoughts weaved in and out of of one another and he couldn't hang on to any of them. 

The only thing Donald could remember next was Dr. Shell trying to speak with him. 

"I'm sorry what?" 

"I said good morning Donald. How are you today?"

"It's morning?" Donald asked, blinking and shaking his head.

"Yes...are you alright?" Dr. Shell asked.

"I uh just...wow..." Donald said as he rubbed his head. How the heck did that happen?  
"I didn't even realize...everything's been a blur." 

"Yes I've been told you seemed to be in a heavy disassociative state after I left. Lot of sleeping and zoning out when you were awake. 

"I can't even remember," Donald sheepishly admitted. 

"It happens. Now I wanted to talk with you again, see how you're feeling today?"

"What about my uh blood work?" Donald asked.

"We won't have the results back for several days. In the meantime let's talk."

"But didn't we do that yesterday?" 

"Yes in fact we did. But I need to know how you are doing today."

Well. Great. 

"I don't know. I just feel empty I guess."

"Empty?"

"Empty. Hopeless. Like what's the damn point," he groaned. Damnit. He slapped his hand over his head. He shouldn't have admitted that out loud. This honesty thing was really getting him into trouble!

Dr. Shell looked at his clipboard, to Donald, and back down. He sighed.

"Donald. If I release you, are you going to be safe?"

"Yes," he lied. 

Dr. Shell gave Donald a knowing, raised eyebrow look. 

"I will be," Donald tried again. 

"Are you telling me the truth?" The doctor asked.

"I..." Donald couldn't even say anything. A sea of negative feelings washed over him, making his shoulders droop. He buried his face into his hands with a tight grip. His breathing came out in heavy gasps. Much as he wanted it to be the truth, he couldn't lie to himself. He was a FAILURE. He was NOTHING. His family told him they HATE HIM! Tears started falling hard and fast. He couldn't do this anymore! 

"Donald, I'm going to have to commit you for a month long stay," said Dr. Shell. 

"What!?" Donald shouted.

"You're still a danger to yourself after the initial 48 hour stay." 

"No! You can't keep me here! What's it matter if I want to die or not?!" 

"The law is in place this way to protect you."

"I don't need protection! I don't want protection!" Donald screamed, his face turning red. He turned his rage to the bedside table and threw it across the room! It struck the wall and cracked it! He grabbed another chair and threw it with equal force! It also slammed hard into the wall and broke! Dr. Shell called Donald's name over the sound of Donald's screaming in rage. Donald grabbed the hospital bed next and tried to lift it. Dr. Shell stood on the other side and held it, opposing Donald's efforts. 

"Donald, please, this anger won't help you!" 

"Aw phooey to that! I don't care anymore! I'm not staying here!" Donald screamed. He continued to try to flip the bed in his anger but he struggled against Dr. Shell's resistance. 

"Things will never get better if you don't try!" Dr. Shell insisted. For some reason that struck Donald. He stopped pushing. The red disappeared from his face. His body began to tremble. With a loud shout Donald dropped himself to the floor. He hugged his knees close to his chest. Dr. Shell dropped in front him. Now the two were sitting on the floor facing each other. 

"It's never going to get better," Donald whispered.

"But you've never had professional help before. You've only been trying on your own," Dr. Shell calmly said. 

"That's...that's true," Donald admitted. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"I'm uh...tired. And...sad."

"That's okay. Now...are you ready to move to the new room you'll be staying in?" 

Donald took a long moment before nodding. Dr. Shell offered his hand but Donald didn't accept it.

"Sorry I just don't like touch..." 

"I really suspect you have haphephobia, the fear of being touched," Dr. Shell casually mentioned. 

"I guess it wouldn't surprise me," Donald said as he stood up. Embarrassment hit him as he saw the damage he'd done. "I'm sorry about that." 

"It's far from the worst I've ever seen," Dr. Shell chuckled. The two walked together through a series of long corridors. Donald felt numb again and didn't even really see the environment around him. Instead his just blindly followed Dr. Shell like a duckling. His thoughts continued to be a mess. An utter tangled mess. Gosh what was he even walking in to? 

Is...healing...possible? 

He hadn't even noticed they arrived until he walked right into Dr. Shells back. Donald stammered apologies. After Dr. Shell brushed it off Donald looked around. The large doors behind him appeared to be the kind that required someone to buzz you in. A large red font on them read "Alarm will sound if doors open without authorization."

There was several hallways going multiple directions from the round room they were in. In the center of the room was a long desk with several nurses seated at it. Dr. Shell was speaking in a hushed voice with one of them. Donald started to zone out staring at a water tank in the corner when Dr. Shell got his attention.

"Your room is ready. Let's go." He led him down one of the hallways. A number on the side listed the room as D2, with a smaller tag listing the room as "Empty" underneath. Dr. Shell reached over and switched the "Empty" to "Occupied." He then pulled out a key card and swiped it on the doorknob.

"I'm going to be locked in here?" Donald asked nervously.

"No you won't be. It's just standard procedure for staff to swipe their card before entering a patients room. Helps keep track of who's with who and all." 

Made sense he guessed. Oh well. The two stepped inside the room. It looked much like the room they came from but bigger. There was a hospital bed and a desk with a chair, large windows with blinds, and a small bedside table with a clock on it. A bathroom was in a room off to the side with an open shower in it. It was incredibly plain and smelled of hospital disinfectant. Home sweet home for the next month.

"Staff will be checking on you throughout the day and into the night as well. You can have two supervised calls a day and one guest a day. Also you may take optional, supervised, trips outside once a day. Your meals will be brought to you. The water in the bathroom sink is safe to drink however we can bring you water anytime. This water bottle is for you. Also here's a notebook you can use. If you need your pencil sharpened there's one over at the nurses station. You'll be seeing a few specialists today to try to start a plan for your recovery." 

After looking around a little Donald sighed. This was a lot to take in. 

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry I just...wow. I'm overwhelmed." Donald admitted. He sat himself down on the bed. At least this one was a little nicer than his other one. 

"That's understandable but don't worry. You're safe. Oh and before I forget, you'll need to wear these," Dr. Shell added as he handed Donald some purple cotton garments. He gave the weird clothes a confused look before taking them. The royal purple shirt and pants was certainly a sight to behold. Good lord he had to wear this!? Donald was certainly no fashion expert but this was just a lot to ask!

"Yes, I'm sorry. At least for now you have to wear The Purples. Your uncle can bring you some clothes in a few days, once they get approved by staff." 

Donald glanced at Dr. Shell. Nope he was serious. He had to wear these. Lovely.

"We'll hold on to your things don't worry." 

Donald stepped into the restroom and changed into the purples. They were a bit big on him, especially the pant legs which he just about tripped over as he stepped on them. Also bleh he had to wear pants. Lame. Pants were no fun. 

Dr. Shell took his jacket and his shirt he wore under it. He gave Donald a look up and down and looked around the room.

"I think that's everything Donald. Lunch should be here in about an hour. Afterwards you're going to be speaking with Dr. Sty. I think you should take this time to rest. Draw, write, shower, nap, whatever you want to unwind a little. You seem very overwhelmed still." 

Donald gave a weak nod as Dr. Shell closed the door behind him. Now once again Donald was alone. Exhaustion kicked in. Geez he was getting tired a lot these past two days. Also gosh he was thirsty he just realized. He gulped down his water and sat back on the bed. Maybe a nap wouldn't hurt...

He laid back and slipped under the thin white blanket. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy just a moment later. Cautiously he closed them, daring to drop his guard. Just before he fell asleep he let his mind drift back to when he started anger management with Jones. It seemed impossible back then, that his anger could be tamed in any way. Yet Jones didn't give up on him. Jones challenged him, opened him up and dissected him. Well not literally. But he made Donald see things about himself he hadn't even known before. It really did hurt when he couldn't afford to keep going to appointments. Jones had been a bit generous and tried to let him attend on less than his regular price however even that became too expensive for Donald to spare. He really missed having that outlet. Jones changed him for the better despite Donald's initial worries that he was just wasting his money. As Donald fell asleep, a more optimistic thought crossed his mind. That maybe, just maybe, in the aftermath of his attempt, healing was possible. 


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is struggling with their feelings. Scrooge visits Donald again. Launchpad makes plans for the weekend. Huey looks for structure.

"Oh yeah! Dewey's back on top!" Dewey cheered as he scored the highest score on the game he was playing. 

"Nice job Dewey," Webby told him. 

"Now this time please don't unplug the machines," Dewey said. The two laughed. 

"Where's Huey and Louie?" Webby asked.

"Not sure. Oh! Space Invaders is open!" Dewey ran off to the game. Webby looked around when she spotted a familiar green hoodie over by the food court. She bounded her way over to him.

"Hey Louie, what's up?" She asked him. He was sitting there staring at the wall. His phone wasn't out, his boat of nachos only half eaten, and his water cup even actually held water this time. Okay something was definitely wrong. Mystery time.

"Soooo what are you thinking about?" She tried to casually ask. Louie glanced at her and sighed. Okay. That didn't work.

"Do you wanna try a two player game with me?" She tried. 

"Why are we doing this?" Louie asked.

"Uh...talking?" 

"Why are we here at Funzos acting like everything is fine despite what happened to Uncle Donald? He's in the hospital and we're at Funzos!"

"Well I mean what are we supposed to do?" 

"I don't know, bring him home or something! Charge down to the hospital and demand to see him? Gahhh! Everything is too loud I can't think!" Louie groaned.

"Do you...do you wanna head back?" Webby asked.

After a long moment Louie replied. "Yeah." 

"Okay just um give me a minute okay? I'll go with you," Webby said. Louie murmured a response then she dashed off. She had to find the Huey and Dewey...oh! Thankfully Dewey was so loud! It was easy to follow his shouts right to him. And Huey was with him! The two were going at some sci-fi shooter game called Hero's Duty. Giant icky insects crawled all over the apocalyptic wasteland as Huey and Dewey shot them with large plastic guns. 

"Dew! Dew! Dew! Like pew pew but with Dewey power!" Dewey laughed as he blasted bugs away.

"I'm gonna score higher than you," Huey said.

"What! No way! I'm Deweying way better than you!" 

"We'll see about that!" Huey laughed. Webby watched the two brothers spam the triggers and blast away the cy-bugs. As the timer counted down the two spammed every harder until time was up. Huey laughed victoriously as he was declared the winner! 

"Aw come on! How'd you do that?" Dewey groaned.

"Points for precision," Huey explained.

"Hey guys not to interrupt this moment but uh Louie and I are gonna head home." 

"Oh uh just a second we'll be right there," Huey said.

"No way I'm sticking around. I'm not leaving till the money runs out!" Dewey insisted, turning back to Hero's Duty. 

"Uh...okay then I guess I'm staying with Dewey instead..." Huey nervously said.

"Alright then. See you guys back at the house," Webby said. She ran back to Louie and explained what happened then the two left. Now alone with only his second youngest brother, Huey turned to watch him continue to zap his way through the army of bugs. Still, he felt really uncomfortable that they weren't going with Louie and Webby. He tried to convince himself it would be alright. They were both smart and capable. They knew to go straight home. And they were sticking together. Just like he needed to stick with Dewey. Speaking of Dewey...

Huey wanted to say something. Say anything. Huey wanted to know so desperately the source behind Dewey's angry outburst earlier. Was he merely mimicking mom? It was already bad enough that she felt this way for some unknown reason. That was another mystery to solve. But Dewey? Why was Dewey doing this? 

"Hey earth to Huey? Are we playing another match or what?" Dewey's voice cut in. 

"Sorry I uh...yeah sure," Huey said. 

* * *

Louie and Webby arrived back at the mansion just the two of them. They traveled in silence. Both of them had thoughts zipping about in their minds. But neither spoke of them. The two made it all the way to the room Louie's room he shared with his brothers. They both stopped. Webby wanted so much to say something. Louie seemed to be on verge of saying something as well. Without thinking, Webby grabbed Louie and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry about Uncle...I mean your Uncle Donald," she spoke softly as she hugged him. Louie was shocked by the hug but he returned it easily. The two held each other for a long moment. Then Louie pulled away.

"Thanks Webs," Louie said. He started toying with the strings of his hoodie.

"You know I uhh...I thought going to Funzos would make me feel better. But actually I feel worse. You know Uncle Donald tried to take us there a lot. Especially on our birthday. Sometimes he'd even, uh, well, he tried to hide it from us but he'd take us sometimes even when we couldn't afford it," Louie explained.

"How do you know that?" Webby asked.

"Uncle Donald keeps pretty good track of his finances. He keeps that book he uses in his room a lot. I may have peaked one...or two...or a few times," Louie admitted.

"Wow...it sounds like he really does love you guys," Webby said. It made her emotional, tears attempted to slip from her eyes. 

"Yeah...I just...I'm...I'm really sad," Louie sighed. 

"It's okay Louie. I'm sad too. And so is Scrooge and Launchpad and Huey and Dew...well uh...what I mean is, you're not alone Louie," Webby encouraged him. 

"I want Uncle Donald..." Louie spoke softly and vulnerably. Tears started to form in his eyes and he pulled his hood over his head. His eyes fell to the floor and his whole body slumped. Webby has seen Louie look sad before but this hit her heart differently. This looked like fear and sadness and hopelessness mixed in all together. Immediately she pulled him into another hug.

"It'll be okay Louie. He'll be back in two days. Okay?"

"Okay...thanks Webbs," Louie said. "I'm uh. I'm gonna take a nap."

"Okay. See you later Louie," Webby said and took off for her own bedroom.

* * *

"Come on Dewey. It's time to go," Huey insisted. Dewey groaned and protested.

"Dewey, we're out of money. Time to go," Huey further insisted.

"Fiiiiiiiine," Dewey said with an excessive sigh. The two headed for the exit. 

"Ugh I wanna stay though," Dewey complained.

"Come on. Knock it off. We gotta go. And I don't like that Webby and Louie already took off without us. I want to get home," Huey explained in a very big brotherly like manner. 

"Ugh don't do that," Dewey snapped as they stepped outside. Huey was taken back by this response.

"Do what?"

"Don't baby them. Or us. We're not little kids anymore. We can walk safely and take the bus. Don't baby us just like Uncle Donald," Dewey angrily said. He crossed his arms. His steps picked up a heavier weight to them almost as if he was stomping his feet. 

"Uncle Donald doesn't baby us. He just wants us to be safe" Huey argued. 

"Yes he does! It's always don't do this, don't do that, you boys are too young for this and that, he never lets us do anything!" Dewey argued. 

"First of all, that is not true. We've had a lot of adventures since we came to live with Uncle Scrooge! Secondly, that's just being a parent! Uncle Donald can't say yes to everything!"

"He could stop keeping us from doing anything!" Dewey shouted. He stopped walking and firmly planted his feet on the sidewalk. Huey stopped with him. 

"We're his boys! He'll never stop worrying about us!" Huey argued.

"He is not our dad! Our real dad is dead remember? Mom is our parent!" Dewey countered.

"But mom wasn't here!"

"And she is now!"

"So what do you want Dewey?! You want him to just walk away?! After everything he's done for us?! You want to only be raised by mom!? You know ever since she got back you've stopped caring about him!" 

"You told him that you hated him too!"

Huey froze when those words came out of Dewey's mouth. Dewey stood there with his arms crossed, smug victory painted on his face. A chill ran up Huey's spine. Huey slumped, even his knees nearly gave out. The smug looked wiped away from Dewey's face when he saw that.

"H-Huey?" He asked.

"I know what I said," Huey gasped. His voice was shaking and quiet. 

"I know what I said," he repeated. "And because if that, that is one of the worst nights of my life. I just...I was so overwhelmed and overstimmulated and upset that I...I don't know! I don't know why I said it! I don't know why you two said it! I don't know! But I don't believe it! I didn't believe it then and I don't believe it now! And then none of us spoke to Uncle Donald for a few days and I can't stop thinking about how my last words to Uncle Donald were 'I hate you!' I don't get why you're so angry Dewey but I! I...Just stop!" Huey shouted. He was shaking and his eyes went wide. His eyes fell the the ground as he gasped for breath. Tears began to fall rapidly. Oh no. Slowly Dewey tried to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"Don't touch me!" Huey screamed!

Well, it was official. Huey was past his limit. Clearly he was overstimmulated and heading for a meltdown. Dewey stammered nervously. Oh how he hated it when Huey had a meltdown! He felt so helpless! 

"Uhhh heeeey Huey! Did you know thaaaaat uuhh prehistoric birds were theorized to have hollow bones? That this may have helped them fly before evolving into land only creatures like we are today?" Dewey managed to say, repeating a fact from an educational program Huey had watched one time. Huey sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

"Of course I know that. There's an entire section on it in the Junior Woodchuck guidebook. Although the evidence in support of the theory is pretty circumstantial due to bone degrading, there may still be some merit to the theory yet," Huey shakily explained.

"Oh uh well that's pretty cool and all, hey why not read me that section from the guidebook so I can learn more about it?" Dewey suggested. Much as though he actually couldn't care less, the way Huey's face lit up made it worth it. Huey was standing up straight again and no longer crying. As he began to read from his book, he started to sound more and more like normal Huey. Dewey sighed in relief. Whew! Crisis averted! Meltdown avoid! Go Dewey you did good! ....even though you caused it in the first place by pushing him with your mean words. Darn it.

The two got to walking again. Dewey listened to his brother's reading although the information went in one ear and out the other. Dewey's mind was actually elsewhere. He found himself remembering a few times before when Uncle Donald pulled the same trick when Huey was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Granted it wasn't a guaranteed fix but it often helped. Thankfully it did so today.

On the bus ride home Huey was still blissfully reading out loud with a polite indoor voice. Dewey's thoughts drifted further still. The things Huey said struck a nerve with him. Huey just didn't get it. None of them did. Which was why...

"Dewey! It's our stop." 

Dewey's attention came back to the present of reality. He quickly composed himself as if nothing was wrong and followed his brother off the stop. Huey was still reading from his guidebook although he had moved on to the topic of cave ducks. Dewey sighed. Even though Huey couldn't understand his anger, Dewey still loved him of course. He didn't want to hurt his brothers so he mentally promised to try to not be angry in front of them. Try.

When they got home, the two brothers went their separate ways. Huey slipped off to the bathroom. He started staring into his reflection as he finished washing his hands. It felt a little strange for some reason. Like a weird disconnect between what was real and what was not. Ugh, okay that didn't make much sense. He walked out of the bathroom trying to understand himself. He wandered the halls aimlessly, trying to think. Trying to understand. He stopped in front of a large portrait of Scrooge and sighed.

* * *

"Donald? Your visitor is here," a nurse informed him. He didn't look up from his drawing, only nodded. Honestly he couldn't care that Scrooge was here. When they brought him to the visitor room so Scrooge could visit, Donald resisted. Now that he had a few minutes to start drawing before Scrooge showed up, he felt a little more settled. But he still didn't care that Scrooge was here.

The nurse stood aside to let Scrooge in. He thanked her kindly and closed the door. Now it was just the two of them. Scrooge watched Donald. Donald refused to look up. The scratching sound of pencil meeting paper was the only sound in the room. It was like the world's worst high noon standoff. But Scrooge didn't come here to fight. No, there had been enough fighting already. 

Slowly Scrooge took his seat at the table with Donald. Donald still didn't acknowledge his presence. Scrooge sighed, taking in the sight of his boy. It had been four days since Donald's attempt. He got the call yesterday that Donald would be admitted for a longer stay. He wanted to drop everything and come see him right away however he was advised to allow Donald a day to adjust. Fine. Much as he hated it. 

Scrooge watched as Donald worked. He got his first real look at Donald since that night. Sitting there, Scrooge was kicking him for not having seen this sooner. Donald looked terrible. Granted he was incredibly grateful Donald was alive but he looked like death. The bags under his eyes were huge and purple. His feathers were thin. He looked exhausted and drained. And he had two large scars going over his beak. Curse me kilts when did happen? 

"Ehm...how are you today?" He finally asked when he could no longer take the silence. 

"Fine." 

"Uh...did you eat today?"

"Yes."

"Well what did you eat?"

"Don't remember."

"Ehm...how did ya get those scars on ya beak? I don't think I've seen that before."

"It's not important."

"Donald..."

"Really Scrooge. It's nothing."

Scrooge sighed. Of course Donald was still trying to keep him at a distance. There had to be a way to close the gap...his eyes fell to what Donald was drawing. It looked like the boys. 

"That's a nice drawing," Scrooge said. No response. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you draw before," Scrooge further commented. 

"You've never taken any interest in my hobbies before," Donald replied flatly.

"That is not true," Scrooge defensively said.

"Hmmm. Really? I seem to recall otherwise," Donald sarcastically said. 

"Oh really?" 

"Yeah. Considering you never cared about my art, my love for languages, or my music and band, I think not." 

"What on earth are you talking about?" Scrooge asked in bewilderment.

"Seriously?" Donald stopped drawing. His eyes finally met Scrooge's. And oh how they seemed to burn right through him.

"For years you've criticized me every time I do anything. Whenever I picked up any hobby you told me I better only be doing them so I could make money from them. Whenever I tried to show you my progress on my language I was learning or or whenever Jose and Panchito and I were playing music, you screamed at us to stop! You made me feel ashamed! Like I have to hide my passions from you! Like I had to hide from you!" Donald said, escalating in anger as he spoke. He took a deep breath and sighed. A strong glare pierced through Scrooge before Donald looked back down. He picked his pencil back up and resumed drawing.

"But I guess I'm a disappointment anyway. You'd be ashamed of me regardless," he spoke softly. It hit Scrooge like a slap. He couldn't find the words to say. Was this true? Was this how Donald really felt? Had to be...no it couldn't be! Surely Donald had to know he was loved! 

"No...no that's not true son," he argued back quietly. Donald huffed but said nothing. Stupid, crazy, old bird. Stop with your lies. Just fucking leave. 

"You know ehm...no I didn't like ya friends and ya music at first. But it improved! Ya all got better over time. And since ya were staying at those college dorms I didn't see ya much. No I'm sorry I don't like ya singing. I'm sorry I don't understand those friends of yers. But it was good to hear when ya weren't around as much. And I'm happy ya had such good friends that could make ya laugh...Yer sister and I both missed ya so much. I'd give anything to hear ya sing right now," Scrooge said. The pricking feeling of tears snuck up on him. But he held strong. For Donald.

Donald rolled his eyes. While he wouldn't say it out loud, what Scrooge was saying was making him feel strange. Mushy? Emotional? Like after years of being denied the love he wanted, hearing Scrooge say such affectionate things made him want to cry and be held? No. No he couldn't. This was Scrooge after all. Scrooge was a liar! No matter what he said it was all manipulation! No matter what he had to keep his walls up! 

"That drawing is very nice," Scrooge's voice cut through Donald's inner monolog. 

"I'm assuming that's the boys?" He continued, tilting his head to look at the upside down image. Donald smiled. 

"Yeah. This is them. They were 4 when this happened," he said. Looking at his drawing of a happy memory felt good. The boys looked happy. It was a happier time. Before...

"I don't recognize this park. Is this in Duckburg?" Scrooge asked.

"No uh...no it's in Hot Dog Hills," Donald explained. 

"I didn't know you ever went there. Bit of a strange town, that is," Scrooge continued. Mentally he was just happy he was finally getting a conversation in that was going so well. Thankfully so far Donald wasn't shutting him out. 

"We lived a few different places in the boys' early years. I wanted out of Duckberg so uh...took the boat and moved us a few times. Lived in Cape Suzette, Hot Dog Hills, Spoonervile, Saint Canard...we came back to Duckburg by the time the boys were 6 though. Wasn't having much luck with the jobs..." Donald went on as he continued to sketch. It was a lovely scene, a sunny day, a beautiful park, the young triplets playing together with a handful of wooden toys. Scrooge felt an incredible sense of longing. He would have very much liked to have been there that day. To think, so many beautiful moments like this, missed out on over pride. 

"I made them these toys. I made them a lot of their things. I couldn't afford much so...had to learn to use what I could. Found a place back when we were living in Saint Canard that gave away wood they couldn't use. The boys were coming up on their second birthday. Oh they were so full of life even at such a small age. I didn't realize how even as young as one year olds could be such a handful. And so hungry!" Donald laughed.

"Those three sure did need a lot of formula. And then food. But I was never one to deny them. I didn't want them to see it but they've had me wrapped around their fingers since they were babies. And I remember, I really wanted to do something special for their birthday...they kept eyeing these toys in the store. And I remembered Darren taught me how to whittle so I got the wood. Whittled the same toys for them. It's like getting to be a gift from their father and from me. You should have seen their faces! They were so happy! And even years later they still loved them. Despite just being simple wooden toys...Not like I could afford any of the fancy cool kid toys anyway but...you know at the time they didn't seem to care. And...not like I can ever make them that happy ever again...I wish I could just scoop the boys up to me and hold them close and sing them sea shanties and lullabies like I used to and have everything be okay again," Donald continued sadly. He didn't know why he was opening up to Scrooge like this. Not like he was interested in it anyway. Old geezer was probably judging him for being so poor anyway. Donald glanced at Scrooge only to be surprised at how invested Scrooge looked. It caught him completely off guard. He froze momentarily, lost in the emotions in his uncle's eyes. Then he pulled himself away. _No. Avoid eye contact. You've revealed too much. Scrooge is crafty. Show him any weakness in your walls and he'll tear them all down. And then he'll tear you apart._

Scrooge felt saddened to hear Donald say this. Oh Donald, if only you knew he felt the same way...Didn't Donald remember when he was young and when he was afraid he'd run into his uncle's arms? How he'd fall asleep to the sound of Scrooge singing traditional Gaelic songs? 

However Scrooge was also on the verge of being utterly giddy at how much Donald was opening up to him. He succeeded in not arguing with Donald about that last thing he said. No, despite that he wanted to tell Donald he was wrong for thinking that, he stayed quiet. This was such good progress! Keeping his beak shut was working! Well okay fine, he was opening up more about the boys than he was about himself. But! Perhaps this was the angle Scrooge needed to get past Donald's walls! Now he needed to encourage Donald somehow. Make Donald feel safe.

"Donald, when you get out of here things are going to be better. You'll see," he said. He put his hand on top of his other but Donald immediately pulled it away. Donald's eyes formed back into a glare. Scrooge sighed.

"Ah yes. Things will be just peachy cause you so right? And really, I mean have you looked at this place Scrooge? I am going to be in debt for the rest of my life," Donald groaned. 

"No ya won't be. I'm paying for this," Scrooge proudly said. It confused him to see Donald look so upset by this.

"Oh great just another thing I have to owe the great Scrooge McDuck. Just can't get out from under your thumb can I?" Donald muttered.

"You just said you'd never be able to pay this off!" Scrooge cried in disbelief. 

"I'd rather work my own way than owe you anything ever again!" Donald snapped.

"Ya won't owe me anything Donald! I'm doing this for you! Because I love you!" Scrooge replied.

"Yeah fucking right," Donald growled quietly.

"Why do ya think I hate ya so much lad!? I'm literally trying to tell you how much I love ya!" Scrooge cried with a slam of his fists onto the table. Donald winced but regained his anger.

"Your love is conditional! You don't care about anyone unless you can use them to make more money!" He growled back.

"That's not true!"

"You didn't take Della and I on adventures with you until you had to! And then when you found out how useful we were, only then did you bring us more often! We were nothing but tools for you!"

"That is not true and ya know it!"

"Yes it is!"

"Nonsense! I didn't realize when ya and Della first came into my custody what great adventurers ya would become! I didn't bring ya kids along to use you! I did it to teach you! Ya two...you may be my sister's children. But you're my kids. Ya both are like me so much and I love ya both," Scrooge said, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. Easy now. Try not to get heated. It seemed to help judging by the look on Donald's face. A look that suggested he actually allowed Scrooge's words to sink in. It was ruined by Donald shaking his head.

"I'm nothing like you Scrooge."

"Sure ya are. Ya are brave. And intelligent. And perhaps I haven't given ya enough credit for it. I do care about you. I do love ya as my own." 

"No you only care about one thing and one thing only Scrooge. Your money. Just have to have it all. You won't be satisfied until you have every last cent in the world," Donald continued. He had to push Scrooge away. He was getting too dangerously close to Donald's heart. No Scrooge was playing a dangerous game here and Donald wasn't going to let him win.

"That's not true!" Scrooge insisted! His face was starting to turn red. Good, that's right Scrooge. Get angry. Get furious. Get so pissed off that you leave! Just go already!

"Oh wait no you're right. It's two things. You love money and adventure. That's right. Everything else is dead weight. Weight you must sever. Right? That's why you left your family at such a young age! It's why you don't keep anyone around unless they're like you!" Donald pushed harder.

"Stop this slander!" Scrooge cried. Ugh they were just going in circles! Why couldn't Scrooge break through! Why did Donald have to be so guarded!?

"It's not slander! It's the truth! You're just in denial!" Donald replied.

"You're the one in denial! I tell ya I love ya and ya say I don't? The audacity..."

"If you love me so much why do you have to insult me every chance you get!? Why you have to go and call me a disappointment! Why'd you have to go and always compare me to Della! Tell me to be more like her! You never listen to me! You think I'm just paranoid but I usually end up right! I want to protect our family and you don't listen to me!"

"I don't do that! I show ya that I care! I'm paying for ya hospital bill! I spend time with ya! If I didn't care I wouldn't do those things!" 

"Means to an end, whatever your supposed sharp mind thinks that is," Donald said, his voice dripping with sass. 

"You! Stop that!" Scrooge was losing his grip on his temper. Donald stuck his tongue out like he used to as a child. And a teen. He could almost see steam coming out of Scrooge's ears. Perfect. He was almost boiling over.

"What do you want lad!? Are ya just trying to be stubborn with me or is there actually something you want!? Will you just stop building walls between us and let me in!" Scrooge screamed. It surprised Donald and fell out of his chair! Scrooge immediately jumped by his side to help him up. Donald tridd to push him away with one arm but Scrooge stubbornly grabbed it. He clung to that arm and pulled Donald up by it. When had the lad gotten so thin and light? Was he not eating? Donald yanked his arm away once he was on his feet. Now the two were awkwardly standing close together. Donald still looked so angry with that burning glare piercing right through Scrooge's heart. Scrooge had become focus on Donald's hands realizing they were very scarred. 

"When did that happen?" He found himself asking, pointing to Donald's hands. Donald's angry expression gave away to a much more pained look. He brought his hands together and rubbed them. Scrooge couldn't believe he hadn't seen these until now. Sure the feathers blocked it somewhat but he still should have seen these sooner. Large scars that rippled across his hands and fingers. 

"Atlantis. This happened in Atlantis," Donald admitted quietly.

"Great Scots lad! That was nearly a year ago! How did it happen?" He asked. He carefully reached over and grabbed his nephew's hands. Though he resisted, Scrooge only held them tighter. The scars were turning white but there was still an angry redness to them in some spots. It looked so painful. 

"Dewey and you were crossing that bridge with the lasers. I grabbed a shield and covered the spots where fire was coming out to protect you two," Donald quietly said. 

"How have I not seen these sooner...curse me kilts lad these look awful..."

"Hurt like hell. Took months to heal after we got back. Still hurts sometimes but I'd do it again," Donald confessed. Scrooge marveled at that statement. 

"What about the scars on your beak? How did those happen?" He asked. Donald pulled his hands out of Scrooge's grasp to cover his beak up. 

"When I was on the Moon. Lunaris muzzled me. Solid gold bars clamped over my beak. When he wasn't torturing me for information that is. I tried to get it off but I only made it worse. Made myself bleed. I don't really know how long I was there for exactly. Pretty sure it was several days. He'd torture me. Shut my oxygen off in my cell and beat me. I couldn't do anything. I was trapped and I couldn't fight him. I really thought I was going to die up there. But Della's friend Penny got me out of there. That's when I sent you the warning about the invasion. Even went against Lunaris again, this time even got a few hits back on him in return. Stole his pod and made it back to earth. Then crashed on that island and well you know the rest," Donald explained. Darn it he really needed to stop being honest with people. Especially Scrooge. But seeing and hearing him care felt so good. Something in him cried out for more of it.

This was shocking to Scrooge to hear. How on earth, and well evidently the moon as well, did Donald manage to keep dropping such bombshells on him??? How much more was Donald hiding? How many more stories and scars was he hiding? What all did he have to heal from?

A knock pulled the two back into reality. 

"Donald? It's time to see Dr. Shell," the nurse said. 

"Well...time to go," Donald said. He quickly began grabbing his notebook. And avoiding Scrooge's eye contact. Great, he was leaving. He started for the door fast. 

"Donald...if I'm hard on you, it's because I miss you," Scrooge choked out. Donald stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Scrooge just a little to glance quickly into his eyes. A long paused stayed quiet between them. Scrooge silently begged Donald to say something, anything. His beak came together, it seemed Donald would speak. But nothing came. Instead Donald looked choked up and he quickly walked away. Leaving Scrooge terribly alone.

* * *

Sometimes, Huey felt like he was a walking contradiction. On the one hand, Huey desperately needed structure. Routine was key. Expecting the expected was good. On the other hand, Huey craved the adventure. The unknown and the potential made it all so exciting! What discoveries would they make? What knowledge would they unlock? It was so thrilling! Expecting the unexpected was also good!

It was frustrating sometimes not knowing what he wanted.

But this was not one of those times. 

Right now, Huey knew what he wanted. Structure. Now was not the time for spontaneous activities. He couldn't handle it right now. The ground beneath him seemed to feel as if it was swaying, ready to open him up and swallow him. It was dizzying to think of. Nerp. No adventure for Huey right now. Time for routine!

The problem was there was no routine right now. It was June so school was out. Summer time always meant a much looser schedule. Right now he hated that. And also now Mom and Uncle Scrooge were fighting about adventuring. Uncle Scrooge had come back from the hospital earlier and marched right to his office. Mom went after him to discuss the next adventure she wanted to partake in right away. Something about a magic shield. Huey would love a magic shield for his mind right now. If he was being honest. The voices of his mom and great uncle kept rising and falling like the howling wind. Huey sighed heavily.

He was trying to read at the moment but the fighting upstairs made that difficult. It made him feel a scramble of negative feelings due to already being on edge. Well this was hopeless. He needed a distraction. Thankfully Beakley had for him a list of chores he could do, per his request. Working helped. Well. Sort of. Better than nothing at the very least. With a bookmark placed in his book, Huey took off for the kitchen. Might as well mop to escape the fighting. 

The distance between rooms helped but Huey's mind still wasn't quite ready to drop the subject. As he cleaned the floor, his mind thought about what was going on upstairs.

Mom was ready to take off on their next exciting new adventure. 

"Come on Uncle Scrooge! We might never have this opportunity to recover the shield again!" 

But Scrooge wanted to stay put. Wow that sounded so out of character for his uncle. But it was true! Scrooge was actually trying to not go on an adventure! He wanted to be at home as much as possible for Uncle Donald!

"We are not taking off anywhere lass! I have to be here in case the hospital calls!" 

"They're not gonna call! That stupid brother of mine can't get anymore hurt at the freaking hospital!"

"He's not doing well!"

"When has Donald ever done well, Uncle Scrooge!?"

"Don't talk about your brother that way!" 

"Why not!? He's an idiot for doing what he did! Why should we have to miss out on this adventure because of him!?" 

Oh and of course there was that jarring revelation to throw off Huey's routine. Four days ago, His ~~dad~~ Uncle Donald had tried to kill himself. It felt and honestly still feels unreal to Huey. Why would he do this? Why? Why on earth would he possibly ever come to such a thought? How could the possibility of doing such a thing ever even cross his mind!? How was he supposed to function without his uncle!? Yes he loved his mom but he needed Uncle Donald too! Why would he do this!? 

As Huey always did whenever he had a question, he turned to his trusty guidebook for answers. And it was devastating that the guidebook held nothing on suicide. The JWG did have a section on mental health but the one thing he was looking for wasn't in it. Okay. No actually, not okay. But okay. You know what? He could figure this out. Just another mystery to solve, that's all.

Huey didn't really want to admit it but he was having a hard time. It was harder to sleep than normal lately. He nearly had a meltdown the other day at Funzos. Yesterday he got mad at Webby for being too loud and yelled at her. Today he was mad at his mom for telling him to stop counting his pills for the fifth time. He yelled at her too. Huey hated it. This was not who he was! But everything was so gosh darn overwhelming right now! 

Structure. Routine. Routine. Structure. 

He needed it so badly right now. 

No structure at all was dangerous!  
Unsteady. Unstable. Danger! Danger!  
Why could nobody see this!?  
Why was everything so inconsistent right now!?  
And why wasn't Uncle Donald back by now!? He was supposed to only be gone 48 hours! Had something else happened!? Why was nobody telling him anything!? Why did everything have to be wrong!?

So Huey quietly tried to create his own structure over the past few days. He would wake up and make the bed. He'd eat his breakfast and take his medication. Then ask Beakley if she could assign him any chores. The request caught the house keeper by surprise as the boys didn't do much for chores aside from picking up after themselves. But she happily agreed. So Huey spent time doing chores to fill his day before finally allowing himself down time. As for Uncle Donald? Perfectly good reason why he was away, he was just at work. Yep. Totally. Gone at work. That was his story and he was sticking to it. 

Okay so this self made structure wasn't working perfectly. And it involved denial. And it really wasn't helping when his mom or brothers tried to tell him to relax. Didn't they get that this was him relaxing! The structure was giving him peace! Let him have this lie!

These thoughts ran through Huey's head as he was moping the kitchen. Everything still wasn't right. His structure was only doing so much and he still felt on edge. Gah! Why did his brain have to be like this!? Why couldn't he just be fine!?

"Family meeting!" Scrooge's distinct voice called from the living room. Perfect, a distraction! Huey set aside the mop and joined his family. 

Uncle Scrooge was seated, Della beside him. Huey was the first to arrive followed by Beakley and Webby, then Dewey and Louie. Launchpad the last to arrive. When everyone was gathered, Scrooge spoke.

"Listen kids ehm...the hospital called me and informed me that Donald is going to be uh...be staying for longer than we first thought."

"What? Why?" Louie asked. His face twisted into shock and horror. 

"They ehm...they believe he is, I quote, still a danger to himself." 

"No! They were supposed to only have him for two days! We need him back!" Louie continued.

"No we don't," Della replied sarcastically.

"Enough Della!" Scrooge growled at her. She rolled her eyes but remained quite. His focus turned back at the kids. They were all clearly feeling various emotions. Dewey seemed somewhere between uncomfortable and angry like he wasn't sure how he felt. Webby and Louie both shared sad expressions and Launchpad was crying. Huey's face was the hardest to read. 

"How long will he be gone for?" Dewey asked.

"A month," Scrooge replied. Dewey nodded but said nothing else. 

"But that's so long. And what if even then they still won't let him leave? What if they keep him forever?" Louie started spiraling down the what ifs path. 

"Now now Louie, listen. Come here to lad," Scrooge encouraged Louie to come closer. He put a strong comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you're scared. I'm....concerned too. But he really needs their help. He'll be fine there just as we'll be fine here. Okay? There's no need to be afraid."

Louie's expression was easy to read. He didn't fully trust the situation. However as he looked into his great uncle's eyes, it was clear he was at least trying to trust uncle Scrooge. He looked over at his mom who still looked angry. She huffed and exited the room. 

"What's her problem?" Louie asked.

"Oh just well...Della wants to take off on another adventure and I...don't want to," Scrooge explained.

"What? Who are you and what have you done with uncle Scrooge!" Webby asked and no one could tell if she was being serious or not. 

"I know it sounds strange. But I'm standing firm on this one. I need to be here for Donald. We all do," Scrooge said as he looked off in the direction Della had taken off in. He sighed and turned back to the kids.

"I'm still going to keep busy with company of course. I have a business to run after all. But I want us to stay here as much as possible. If you kids leave, please be extra careful out there. Okay?" 

The kids all nodded. Seemed easy enough. 

"Alright...thank you kids. Now I best be off. Have to get everything ready to run over to Cape Suzette this week to check on the lemonade factory," he explained as he stood from his chair. Then he was gone. The room was silent again.

"Well this is boring I'm gonna go," Dewey quickly broke the silence.

"Wait, go? Go where!?" Huey demanded.

"Geez Hubert calm down. Just gonna go find mom," Dewey defensively explained. He turned to his giant friend LP. 

"Hey Launchpad are you with me?" Dewey asked. Surprisingly Launchpad still seemed rather down and didn't get an excited look on his face. 

"Uh...no thanks Dewey. I'm actually....gonna go," Launchpad said as he stood up. He quickly ducked out of the room.

"Oh okay maybe later then!" Dewey called after him. Then Dewey was gone. Now there was only the four of them. Wait no, three. Beakley just left to make lunch. Louie awkwardly left the room. Now down to two. Webby and Huey. 

Huey felt awful. It was hard to describe other than that's what it was. Sad? Anxious? Queasy? Uncomfortable?

Huey liked labels and organization and being able to put everything in its place. Right now he couldn't label anything. Realistically of course Huey knew life won't always be so simple and easy to organize but he really wanted it right now. 

Webby saw how "not fine" Huey looked right now. It was upsetting that there was very little she could do for him. Webby knew a whole lot about a whole lot. And so did Huey. But right now, neither of them knew anything about what to do or how to fix it. Come on, there had to be something! Webby's heart ached. Deciding to default to the best idea she could think of, she ran to Huey and hugged him tightly. He jumped at first. Then he settled into her grasp. Slowly he returned it.

"Huey, it'll be okay. I've got you," she said softly. 

"I know Webby. Thank you," he said as he released her. 

"I'm gonna go finish mopping. See you," he said as he walked off. Now Webby was alone. Feeling more alone than she ever had before.

* * *

"I'm disappointed in you lass," Scrooge said as he walked into Della's room. She sat in her chair going over something in her journal. She gave him a strong glare for what he said as well as just walking into her room. 

"I've rarely heard you say that. Must have really messed up this time," she sassed. Truthfully she didn't care right now.

"I'm disappointed in that tone as well," Scrooge added. 

"What do you want Uncle Scrooge?" She asked. Her pencil and eyes not moving from her journal. 

"I want to know why you're so angry at your brother."

"I have no brother," Della snapped. 

"That's not true and you know it!" Scrooge argued back.

"Well he's dead to me then!" 

"But why?! This is a time for ya to be supporting him and you're turning ya back on him!" 

"Why does it matter? You said it yourself Uncle Scrooge, he wanted nothing to do with you," Della angrily said.

"This isn't about me! Ya know he and I have....basically always butted heads. But you're his sister! His twin! Ya two are like opposites but you've always been by each other's side. But ever since ya both returned the two of ya have been bickering like children! Why are ya so angry at him!?" Scrooge countered. Della finally dropped her pencil and closed her journal. A heavy sigh escaped her beak. 

"I just am Uncle Scrooge. I just am." 

Scrooge watched her expression trying to understand. She sat properly in her chair rather than her usual leaning back. Her feet were flat on the floor. Her hands were clamped together and her eyes were down. This was the same stance she'd take when she got in trouble as a child. Scrooge hadn't seen it in years. Was she ashamed? That was usually what Della expressed when sitting in this way. Scrooge wanted to push but he remembered how Donald resisted against him. Usually Della didn't do that. Scrooge felt it in his gut though that this time would be different. So he quietly hoped she'd just open up to him.

She did not open up to him. 

Instead Della only continued to sit there. That guilty shameful face holding strong. Scrooge wasn't sure what the answer was. Push? Pull? Speak? Silence? He thought he knew but seeing her like this made him realize he didn't know. Actually come to think of it, turned out there was a lot he didn't know. For both his kids. 

It was difficult to handle the silence and the sad face. So Scrooge wrapped his arms around Della. His chin rested gently on top of her head. He even little nuzzled her. She moved ever so slightly. Like testing the waters. He kept quiet though and just held her. Weakly she returned the hug. That was better than nothing, he felt. Internally he still wondered about her anger and wished she'd just talk to him. But he decided he needed to let her come to him. 

"I love ya Della. Yes even when I'm disappointed in ya. I don't understand yer feelings right now but I hope ya tell me soon," he said. He dropped the hug and took hold of his cane again.

"Ehm. Uh. Anyway. I have some work that needs to be done. But if you want to talk lass, feel free to come in. Anytime."

Her weak nod was her only response. Awkwardly Scrooge shifted out of the room. Della sighed when the door closed. Her thoughts drifted about. If only she could make him understand...

She picked up her journal again. The writing she had done earlier seemed like it was written a lifetime ago even though it had only been minutes. Her anger felt drained. Now it was replaced by something else she couldn't quite identify but she didn't like it either. Underneath her angry scribbles a new paragraph was formed.

"I can't do this."

* * *

"How was your visit with your uncle?" Dr. Shell asked Donald. Darn it. Of course he had to ask about that. Donald sighed.

"Terrible."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because...because Scrooge is a liar!" Donald snapped.

"Really? He seemed rather concerned about you when I spoke to him yesterday," Dr. Shell calmly commented.

"What wait!?" 

"Now Donald I didn't discuss anything private with him. I will never violate your privacy like that. It's just that I had to inform him that your stay was going to be extended," Dr. Shell explained. Oh. Okay then...

"Why do you think Scrooge is a liar?" He continued to ask.

"I know he is," Donald instantly replied. 

"Okay. So...what happened during your visit?" 

"He lied to me! That's all he does! He lies and he tricks and he uses! Anything to get what he wants!" 

"What did Scrooge lie to you about?" The doctor asked. Donald crossed his arms and slumped down. He could feel himself shaking. 

"He told me that he loved me," he rasped out. It so much to say and think about. Oh why oh why did Scrooge have to toy with his heart like this? Why did he have to lie to him and make him want the truth so badly!? 

"Why do you believe this to be a lie?" Asked Dr. Shell. 

"Because Scrooge always lies," Donald flatly repeated.

"Now that's not true and you know it. He has to have told you the truth at least sometimes," the doctor reasonably explained. Donald sighed in frustration in response. He really hated when people used "logic" when he was already upset. 

"Well this was a lie," Donald defensively stated.

"How do you know?"

"Because Scrooge doesn't love me."

"You can't just go in circles like this Donald. What makes you think Scrooge doesn't love you?" 

The question made Donald pause. It had been a long time since he really thought about the why. His belief of Scrooge's hatred for him was so ingrained in him. Thinking of the why brought a tear to his eye. He was quick to wipe it away though. Scrooge was not going to beat him like this.

"Because of how he treats me. Ever since I came into his guardianship after...my parents died," Donald said. It weighed on him heavily. Drowning was never a fear of Donald's. He felt confident in the water. Powerful. Graceful. But when it came to Scrooge...Donald always felt like he was drowning. Drowning in disapproval and disappointment. Drowning in a sea of expectations he'll never meet. Drowning. And Scrooge was standing there on the shore watching. 

"How did he treat you?"

How did he treat him? How did he treat him!? Like...like he was...unwanted. Because he was. Like he was just in the way. He was obnoxious. He was the problem child. The disappointment. The failure. Scrooge didn't love him. He never did. 

"He didn't want me. I'm not like him. He loves my sister. But not me. I'm annoying. I'm helpless. I'm not brave or daring. I'm not worth anything to him. He's never cared about me. He didn't want Della and me but since Della is so like him...well of course she's his favorite. If it was just me he'd have gotten rid of me. He doesn't understand me. He can't stand me," Donald explained. It hurt to say but it also felt weirdly good to explain. Like the weight he was carrying on his chest lifted. And now he didn't know how to breathe without it. 

"And this is why you think he's a liar?" Dr. Shell asked.

"Of course it is. It's the very foundation of our relationship. And I don't want anything to do with him," Donald said.

"But you live with him again?"

"Only for the kids! I, they, they love him! And he loves them! And he can provide for them in a way I can't! So I live in my houseboat in the pool while the kids stay in the mansion because it's better for them!" 

"If Scrooge doesn't love you then why didn't he simply kick you out entirely? Why does he come to visit? Why is he paying for your hospital bill?" Dr. Shell asked.

"Everything is a calculated move with him!" 

"What does he gain by doing all this for you? If he doesn't love you, then why?" 

This question floored Donald. Truthfully he hadn't thought of it that way. Not at all. He was so busy thinking that it was a trick for Scrooge's gain that he never questioned what Scrooge gained. He sighed and racked his brain. 

"A scapegoat," Donald finally answered. "I'm such bad luck and a disaster that with me around Scrooge has someone to blame."

"Seems like Scrooge is going to a lot of trouble to keep a scapegoat around. Wouldn't it just be easier for him to have moved on to someone else if that was the case?" Dr. Shell asked.

Again Donald was stumped. Alright what the heck was this doctor on if he could see things like this? Because the points he made were....valid??? What??? Was the room spinning or just him? 

"Listen Donald. I don't believe Scrooge hates you. I think he and you are having problems communicating. And additionally, you're closing him out due to your past. It does sound like he may have been neglectful. Possibly borderline abusive even. You don't have to reconcile with him. Even with all he's doing for you. You're an adult and can make your own choices -"

"Oh now I can make my own choices," Donald sarcastically interrupted.

"- Choices that don't harm yourself and or others," Dr. Shell corrected. "But I think it may be good for you to at least try. We can invite him in for a session. It will work best if you both put forth the effort. So I don't want to see you shutting him down automatically if you agree to it."

The idea spun around in his head. On the one hand how could things possibly get worse? On the other, heck anything could happen. This was him after all. And everything that could go wrong, would go wrong. So was the way of his life. Who gets stuck with all the bad luck? 

Scrooge's words repeated in his mind. The thump of his heart that was joyful returned. He wanted to believe. He didn't. But he wanted to...

A voice of reason and a voice of doubt argued inside him. Like a small angel and a small devil.

Scrooge said he loved me.

He's a liar. It's all he does.

But Dr. Shell...

Doctors think they know everything. He doesn't know Scrooge.

But what if I'm wrong?

Scrooge has lied to you, manipulated you, gone behind your back, why would this be any different?

What if it's the one time I am though?

Can you really afford to take that risk? Think of how much he's hurt you! He shut you out first! Always comparing you to Della! Always telling you to shut up or calling you stupid! Always shutting you physically out by locking himself in his office or his money bin! All he cares about is money and adventure! He's never cared about any of the songs you wrote or languages you learned! He only wants you to use you! Don't you remember the way he acted when Della was lost?! You're better off without him!

Our family has been apart too long. It was true then and it's true now. Come on...take the chance. 

Internally the battle raged. A strong headache formed as arguments and what ifs clashed. There had to be answer and he wasn't sure what it was. 

"You don't have to decide today Donald," Dr. Shell's voice cut through the battlefield. The option was considered before being ignored. The battle resumed. No, he had to decide now. 

"I'll do it!" Donald screamed. His hand flew over his beak. Wow whoops he hadn't meant to scream. But he had to Pick! And he chose! He chose to try! 

Fuck it. What's the worst that could happen? 

"Are you sure about this Donald?" Dr. Shell asked. "I'm going to encourage you to really open up to him. You can't just deny Scrooge the whole time. And you'll need to listen to what he says even if it feels like a lie."

"Yes. I'll do a session with him," Donald said with a strong commitment. He had to commit. Ducks don't back down!

"Alright. I'll call him and see if he'll agree to it. And we'll go from there. Okay Donald?" 

"Yeah..." 

"Alright, let's head back to your room. You've got another appointment with Dr. Sty later today," Dr. Shell noted.

"You called it doc. He diagnosed me with haphephobia. The fear of being touched. We're gonna go over selective mutism today," Donald said. 

"Yes he did tell me. Once he decides on that, you two will be working on overcoming."

"Do these ever go away?" Donald asked shyly. 

"Well...it varies. You'll have to learn management first. And with time it may get better with less episodes. Or it might not. We just don't know for sure," explained Dr. Shell. Donald nodded. Guess it was all probably just another thing he'd have to learn to live with. Like his anger issues. 

Donald quietly followed the doctor back to his room. The two shared goodbyes and again Donald was alone. For some reason he felt good? The things the doc said made sense? Right? Scrooge wouldn't act like this if he didn't love him right? Maybe they really could mend their relationship and have a closeness. They'd know once they had their appointment together.

....

Appointment.....together....

  
Aw phooey what did he agree to? 

* * *

Launchpad McQuack paced around his bedroom. Well really it was a room in the parking garage. But it was his room. Uncle McDee made sure he was set up comfortably. When Launchpad was first hired he lived in a storage facility over in Silverwing which was where he parked Mister McDee's limo. But as Mister McDee became Uncle McDee, he was brought into the home.

_"This mansion has two garages. No point in keeping ya all the way out in Silverwing eh Launchpad?"_

_"Uh....what?"_

_"Ehem...uh...Follow me Launchpad. I have something to show you."_

_It was easily one of the greatest moments of Launchpad's life. Scrooge had gotten Beakley to clear out one of the garages so the limo could be parked with ease inside. Now one garage was for storage and the other was for parking. But for Launchpad, what was more exciting was the room off to the side of the parking garage. Scrooge opened it up and inside was a whole bedroom! It had a large bed, a dresser, a desk, a phone, and a TV, a window and curtains, a nice sized shelf, and even a bathroom off to the side! The shower even had rails for Launchpad in case he might fall. There was wall mounted help buttons scattered about the lower walls of both rooms in case Launchpad had a seizure and needed help._

_"Sorry to stick ya in the garage Launchpad but I know ya like to play that saxophone of yours. Figured this room was best in terms of space and privacy and would still let ya play without bothering the rest of the house," Scrooge explained._

_"Wow cool! So I can stay the night sometimes!? When I'm not back at the storage place?" Launchpad cried as he looked around the sweet room._

_"No Launchpad, I don't want you staying there anymore," Scrooge said with a warm smile._

_"Wait what? Am I fired?" Launchpad asked with sudden fear._

_"No lad! Yer not fired! I want ya to stay here! Yer home is here now! In the mansion! This room is fer ya!" Scrooge explained, loudly and proudly as he gestured about the place. It took him by surprise when Launchpad grabbed him into a giant hug but he accepted it easily. Tears from Launchpad's eyes fell against Scrooge's cheek._

_"Thank you Uncle McDee," Launchpad cried. Scrooge returned the hug as best as he could with his arms pinned to his sides._

_"Yer welcome lad. Yer one of the family now," Scrooge replied._

It had been one of the best days of Launchpad's life. 

Back in the present, Launchpad was having one of the worst days of his life. 

He was worried about Donald. A lot. Like, really. A LOT. 

Hearing Uncle McDee say a few days ago that Donald had tried to kill himself reduced the gentle giant to tears. And now he was going to be gone for much longer. And it scared Launchpad. A lot. 

His eyes kept falling to the papers on the desk. Donald and Launchpad had been playing music together. They even started working on songs together. It was surprising Uncle McDee didn't know about this. Then again, it didn't seem like he and Donald got along well. Didn't make sense to Launchpad why. After all! Uncle McDee was great! He still somehow wasn't firing Launchpad despite all his errors in flying, driving, and well, life. And he gave him this sweet room! But Donald always got this look on his face when Scrooge was brought up. Or after having to be around him. It was a look that Launchpad recognized and felt within his soul. 

The same kind of look Launchpad got whenever someone mentioned his father, Huxley McQuack. The one who beat him and gave him his traumatic brain injury.

Launchpad tried to be considerate of Donald's feelings. He tried not to ask about it. After all, he didn't like people asking about his dad. But sometimes Launchpad forgot. Memory issues. Part of his TBI. 

_"Scrooge and I...we're like water and oil. We don't mix," Donald explained._

_"Huh...I didn't know they didn't," Launchpad said._

Regardless of Donald's feelings towards Scrooge though, he and LP were close. They were brothers. D and LP. And nothing was going to take that away.

Except perhaps D's own head and heart. He tried to kill himself...it felt unreal. 

His friend...his brother. He'd never had a brother before. Hardly even a friend. And even though he and Uncle McDee got close, he never expected Uncle's nephew and him to bond. Especially when initially D seemed to hate him. Or was at least annoyed by him. Suspicious of him either. He asked a lot of questions. Didn't seem to like him spending time with Dewey so much. But then ome night they were talking. Then they were joking. Then they were talking about how great Dewey is. Then they were swapping stories of their pain. Something being wrong with them. No way to fix it. Only live with it. And no one understood that. 

Dewey was absolutely still his best friend. But he and D formed something special that night. He realized then he had a big brother. Donald allowed for him to start calling him D. LP was the only person allowed to call him D. Big brother D, little brother LP.

Launchpad paced. He felt...sad. Sad. Sad. Helpless. Sad. There had to be something he could do for his big brother D. But what? He was locked up at Duckburg General. Launchpad shuddered. He didn't like hospitals. Too much time spent in them for his brain. And surgeries. And therapies. 

A plan was considered. He wanted to crash into the side of the hospital and rescue Donald. Just grab him and race away. But Uncle McDee insisted that was where Donald needed to be. Fine. He trusted Uncle. Even though he hated hospitals. And hated to think of Donald being there. 

The weight was hard to carry. Launchpad realized he needed to talk to someone. Uncle McDee was pretty busy right now. He peaked into the mansion but couldn't find Beakley. She must be busy too. Well. He could always call....well he didn't want to bother him. He knew he was busy. But Launchpad was really hurting. He really wanted to see him. So...he picked up the phone and made a call.

_~Ring. Ring. Ring.~_

"Hey babe," came the voice on the other line.

"Hi DW," Launchpad replied.

"Hey I don't have long before I gotta go. But what's up Launchpad?" Drake happily asked.

"Uhh I mean uh...I'm sorry to bother you but um....I could really use to see you Drake," Launchpad said nervously. He toyed with his tie as he spoke, feeling guilty for even asking. 

Drake paused on the other end.

"Are you alright Launchpad? Are you hurt? Did something happen?" He asked. Drake's concern leaked through his calm facade.

"I uh...I'm okay. But something happened. And I wanna see you and talk in person," Launchpad explained. He could almost see Drake shifting uncomfortably on the other end.

"LP I'm really sorry but I can't leave this set for a few days. We'll be wrapping up for the weekend soon but I really can't come over right now. I'm SO SORRY," Drake explained. Launchpad could hear the pain in his boyfriend's voice. He knew this hurt Drake probably more than it hurt Launchpad to hear it. It still hurt though.

"It's okay Drake...I understand," he said.

"I'm so sorry LP. I'll be over the second I can leave this set. I'll be all yours the whole weekend. I love you. I'm so sorry," Drake quickly promised. 

"I believe you Drake. I'll uh see you this weekend then...can we go to Hamburger Hippo? And see my mom too?" Launchpad said.

"Absolutely Launchpad. Anything you want. And hey, if you want I can uh...you know I can call you when we're done filming tonight?" Drake offered. 

"No uh...no. I'll see you this weekend."

Drake sighed. Well Launchpad was really upset about something. A phone call when Drake wasn't able to be there was usually enough to ease LP. His insistence on meeting in person meant something was very much bothering him. And he kept saying Drake. That was another little thing Launchpad did. He liked simple syllables instead of full names. That's why he was DW! Full names was usual reserved for formal settings and whenever Launchpad was really upset.... Drake felt villainous for not dropping everything to come see him. But he needed this film. And he was on contract.

"You do what you need to do Drake. I'll see you this weekend," Launchpad said.

"....Okay. Launchpad? I love you so much," Drake said.

"I love you too Drake. Bye," Launchpad quietly said. 

"Bye," Drake sadly sad as he hung up. He sighed. It was wonderful that LP was so understanding. And awful that he wasn't able to always be there. He'd make it up to him this weekend. No matter what. But now he had to get back to work.

Launchpad hung up the phone. It disappointed him that it'd be a few days before he could see DW. Seeing DW always madd everything feel better. But he trusted DW's promise. He could hold tight until then. 

Hanging up the phone on the desk made Launchpad see the things he and Donald had worked on. An instant reminder of why he was hurting. Pages of sheet music and drawings, collaborative efforts of ink and hearts spread out across his desk. A framed photo Donald had gifted him was knocked over. Launchpad picked it back up, staring into the memory of the moment. He'd finally gotten D to sit down and watch some Darkwing Duck with him. During a particularly exciting episode D had somehow gotten a picture of the two of them smiling with him even noticing. Launchpad's excitement was far more evident than D's but D still had a warm smile in that moment. How was D actually hurting this much? D had him, he had Dewey and his brothers, he had his sister...

Was this a "people are complicated" issue or was this an "I'm struggling to understand due to brain damage" issue? Launchpad wasn't sure. Only thing he really did know is he missed D. He hoped he could see him again real soon.

* * *

A knock on the door caught Beakley's attention. Immediately she turned to it in order to open it. Strange. No one was expecting company that she knew of. She opened the door and was struck slightly by the surprise. Two men that she did not know stood at the door. A rooster and parrot. The rooster cleared his throat.

"Perdón señorita, my name is Panchito," The rooster said holding out his hand. 

"And I'm José," the parrot added also holding out his hand. 

Beakley shook both their hands, still wondering what they were doing here.

"You are probably wondering what we are doing here," Panchito said.

"You see, our friend," José began.

"And band mate," Panchito added.

"And band mate, Donald Duck lives here! May we see him please?" José asked. 

...oh...

Beakley wasn't sure what the best thing to do was. It seemed likely these two weren't aware of...what happened. Great. Um...

"Could you excuse me for a moment please?" She asked. The two nodded. Then she closed the door and sighed. Best to ask Scrooge. 

Beakley made her way to Scrooge's office and knocked on the door. Scrooge invited her in.

"Ah Beakley how can I help ya?" He asked cheerfully.

"Um sir, there are two friends of Donald's at the door. They want to see him," she explained bluntly. Scrooge's face fell. 

"...They don't know?" He asked.

"Given their upbeat demeanor I would guess not," Beakley replied. Scrooge sighed. Well...that was unfortunate. 

"Are these two outside perchance a pair of parrot and rooster?" Scrooge asked.

"Yes sir."

Great. Just great. Scrooge remembered them of course. José and Panchito. Donald's college friends who they recently re met in Brazil. Hollering hooligans. Scrooge still didn't know what the heck made them friends but they were. 

And now he was going to have to tell them that their friend was in the hospital after a suicide attempt. Oh joyous day. 

"I'll speak with them Beakley. Thank ya," Scrooge said as he hopped down from his desk. He gave her a nod as the two left the office. It was going to be okay. He didn't like this one bit but it was going to be okay. 

When Scrooge opened the door the two on the other side looked surprised to see him.

"Hola Scrooge!" The red one cried.

"Yes, hello. How are you sir?" The green one followed up with. 

"You remember us right?" 

"We apologize again for that mess in Brazil. We hope you do not hold it against us." 

"We are here to see Donald!" The red rooster excitedly cried.

"No music this time, just friends looking to spend a little time together as a pleasant surprise. I brought popcorn," José added in a sing song tone. The strange look on Scrooge's face stumped the two where they stood. Why did Scrooge appear so...sad? 

¿Porque la cara? Panchito asked

"Listen lads...Donald isn't here right now," Scrooge began. 

"Ah. We understand. We can come back later. Do you know what time he will return at?" José asked. 

"Donald is...in the hospital. He won't be home for some time," Scrooge explained, his eyes falling sadly the ground below. 

José and Panchito looked back and forth to Scrooge and each other. Say what!? Hospital!

"Scrooge my good man, what happened?" Panchito asked. This made Scrooge wince. Not only was he not wanting to think of what happened but also he wasn't sure what to say. Donald might be really upset at him if he revealed what happened to his friends. It really wasn't his place to say. Then again Donald needed support. Donald kept shutting him out. But these were his friends. They could likely get past Donald's guard in a way he couldn't. Oh what was a man to do...

"Look I...it's best if Donald tells ya what happened. I wasn't there, I didn't see anything," Scrooge lied. "I'll give ya the information needed to go visit him."

They waited while Scrooge dug out a paper and pen from somewhere inside the house. When he returned he handed them the sheet with Donald's room and number they could use for a monitored call. They thanked him and wished him well. Then they took their leave. 

"I cannot believe Donald is in the hospital," Panchito said as they left Killmotor hill behind. 

"Yes. I am saddened by this. However! We shall visit him!" José optimistically cried. Panchito whooped in agreement. 

"Alright Scrooge said we cannot visit today as Donald had a visitor. But we will accomplish soon!" José continued.

"Yes! Tomorrow! Oh wait...Oh no I have work tomorrow," Panchito groaned.

"Ugh. I'm afraid I do as well. But! Once we both have time, we shall see him!" José said. The two walked away happier. Not yet knowing just how much support they would need to provide for their friend. But through fair or stormy weather, the three Caballeros would stand together. 

* * *

Sweeping, done. Mopping, done. Dusting, done. Water plants, done. Still too much time left. Needed more. Had to do something. Anything. Laundry? Laundry had to be done. Do laundry. Fill the time. Productive. Structure. 

Huey looked up from his checklist. He had completed most of his Beakley approved tasks and he was feeling antsy. It felt too early still to be this close to being done. Okay. Laundry time. And while he was waiting on the washer he could read from the JWG. Productivity. He could manage it. As long as Huey stayed busy. 

Uncle Scrooge could work. Mom could do her own thing. Dewey, Louie, and Webby could also do their own thing. And Uncle Donald was working hard and long hours again and most definitely not at the hospital. 

And Huey was going to stay busy. 

Huey separated the colors of his laundry. Which was super easy, he mostly had red. It wasn't the only thing he wore but he definitely had gotten several packs of the exact same shirt. It was nice. He was able to have several of his favorite shirt. ~~(and they were cheap so it was easier for Uncle Donald to buy them and not feel bad that the boys had no clothes)~~

He put the reds in by themselves. The laundry soap, hypoallergenic and scent free of course. ~~(one of the few things Uncle Donald couldn't afford to be cheap on since all the boys were sensitive to it)~~ Soon the comforting hum of the washer running filled the small laundry room. A small chair was placed in the corner. Huey decided to read in here. That way he'd know when the laundry was done. And the ambiance of the washer was nice. 

Time passed. It helped. Before Huey knew it the washer had finished. He'd read through a large chapter on rocks and minerals. He still needed that Geology 3 badge. Maybe Uncle Donald could take him to....oh wait. He couldnt. ~~He said he'd be working late tonight.~~ That's okay. Mom could help him! Huey switched the laundry to the dryer and returned to reading. Hmmm oh hey maybe Uncle Donald could.....wait no. ~~He would be working this weekend. Long hours. But it would be okay. He'd be home after work. He always came home.~~

"Huey! There ya are lad. Been looking fer you," said Scrooge from the doorway. 

"Oh! Hey Uncle Scrooge!" He greeted his great uncle in return. 

"Finishing the washing are ya?" Scrooge asked.

"Yep. Getting it done and reading from the junior woodchuck guidebook," Huey explained. 

"Excellent uh..." Scrooge trailed off. He seemed unsure suddenly. Like there was something he wanted to say but wasn't. Strange. Very unlike Uncle Scrooge. He gripped his cane tighter. That's when Huey noticed the letter in Scrooge's hand. Oh! Maybe something for him! A letter from the Woodchucks maybe? 

"What's that?" Huey, ever the curious one, asked. Scrooge stiffened. Weird reaction but okay. 

"Ehem. Uh. Well. It's....Huey, we need to talk," Scrooge said very seriously. 

"Oh. Okay," Huey said, giving his uncle his full attention. Scrooge held up the letter before faulting again. Why did he look so scared? And sad? What could that letter be that made him feel like this? Was he being audited by the IRS? 

"Huey...this is for you," Scrooge began. Alright so Scrooge wasn't being audited. Now what? Wait, was he getting audited??? Oh wait no of course not, Huey reminded himself. _I'm only 11 and I don't pay taxes._

"I haven't told your mother about this. And I haven't read it myself either. Ya don't have to take it even. This is purely for ya to decide on," Scrooge continued. The hand holding the letter was shaking. 

"I don't understand," Huey said. Scrooge sighed. 

"Huey...this letter was left for ya by Donald," Scrooge softly said. 

...Oh...

The distance between Huey and the letter suddenly seemed to grow. He didn't try to reach for it nor did he want to. That letter, that ink and paper...whatever it said had the ability to shatter the walls Huey was trying to protect himself with. He started in shock at the simple envelope, unable to move. Scrooge saw the look on Huey's face. Truthfully he didn't fully know what Huey was thinking but he had a strong guess. _Don't remind me. Don't make it real._

They were at an impasse. Painful truth vs comforting lie. Reality vs fantasy. Huey didn't want to decide. He knew, really truly knew he should not live in a lie. He should accept the truth. Even if it hurts. -The way he once criticized Dewey for not doing the same with mom-

But he simply didn't want to. It was easier to pretend. Everything was fine as long as he believed. Right?

Huey looked up at his uncle. His uncle looked back down at him. The letter still hanging in the air in Scrooge's grasp. Waiting. 

Huey squeezed his eyes shut and snatched it out of Scrooge's hand. Cautiously he opened them and looked at the letter. Just breathe. It's paper, not a snake. Or a shark. Or anything that might bite. It's only paper. 

~~Don't think of what's inside. Don't think of what Uncle Donald might have written. Don't think about it.~~

"Huey...if ya need to talk-" 

"I don't. I'm fine. Thank you," Huey replied quickly. He shut the letter into the back of the JWG. 

"I'll read it later," Huey lied. "Just gonna finish this laundry up."

Scrooge seemed on edge of saying something. Oh please don't. Don't call him out on this. Don't push the issue. ~~Don't push me out of my comfort zone~~

"Alright then lad. See ya at dinner," Scrooge said as he walked off. Whew. Thank goodness. Huey glanced back down at the JWG. With a sigh, he set the guidebook down and turned his attention to the dryer. He could do this. He could do this. Everything was fine. He could do this. ~~Absolutely fine~~

* * *

June 15th.

~~Wake up at 9 am.~~

~~Shower~~

~~Breakfast~~

~~Take daily medication.~~

~~Count daily medication. 15 pills remaining.~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Dust~~

~~Sweep.~~

~~Check houseplants. Water if necessary.~~

~~Lunch~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Clean room.~~

~~Read.~~

~~Dinner.~~

~~Clean kitchen~~

~~Free time until 9pm.~~

~~Asleep no later than 10pm.~~

* * *

June 16th

~~Wake up at 9 am.~~

~~Shower~~

~~Breakfast~~

~~Take daily medication.~~

~~Count daily medication. 14 pills remaining.~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Dust~~

~~Sweep.~~

~~Check houseplants. Water if necessary.~~

~~Lunch~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Clean room.~~

~~Read.~~

~~Dinner.~~

~~Clean kitchen~~

~~Free time until 9pm.~~

~~Asleep no later than 10pm.~~

* * *

June 17th

~~Wake up at 9 am.~~

~~Shower~~

~~Breakfast~~

~~Take daily medication.~~

~~Count daily medication. 13 pills remaining.~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Dust~~

~~Sweep.~~

~~Check houseplants. Water if necessary.~~

~~Lunch~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Clean room.~~

~~Read.~~

~~Dinner.~~

~~Clean kitchen~~

~~Free time until 9pm.~~

~~Asleep no later than 10pm.~~

* * *

June 18th

~~Wake up at 9 am.~~

~~Shower~~

~~Breakfast~~

~~Take daily medication.~~

~~Count daily medication. 12 pills remaining.~~

~~Work on extra credit school work.~~

~~Dust~~

~~Sweep.~~

~~Check houseplants. Water if necessary.~~

~~Lunch~~

Work on extra credit school work.

Huey was working on his extra credit per his self made schedule when a loud sound took him completely by surprise. Something loud and mechanical! With a shout, Huey jumped up from his desk. The sound was clearly outside. Huey had left the window open. He strode over to the window. Before he could shut it however he got a look at the chaos outside. Scrooge was standing near the pool barking orders. Beakley was aboard Uncle Donald's boat messing with ratchet straps. Launchpad was operating a small crane device. The mechanical sound was the crane operating. Oh. Makes sense. Huey watched as Launchpad worked the heavy machinery albeit with some errors. Scrooge motioned with hands and words directing Launchpad to move the crane. Slowly it sank lower. Once the hook was low enough Beakley hooked the ratchet straps together. Then the crabe lifted upwards, pulling the boat from the water.

Wait... **PULLING THE BOAT FROM THE WATER!?!?**

Huey let out a shout and raced for the door. His heartbeat was fast and painful. Immediately his lungs and muscles burned. He pushed himself to move like he never had before. Through the halls. Down the stairs. Out the back. Breathing hurt. He gasped and struggled to stand as he made it out to the pool side. But no time! He quickly gasped and let out a shout.

"What are you doing!?"

Scrooge turned to the youngster.

"Hello Huey!" Scrooge called over the rumble of machinery.

"Uncle Scrooge! What are you doing!?" Huey cried.

"Hold on lad! I can't hear ya! Let me finish getting this boat stored then we'll talk!" Scrooge called in response turning back to Launchpad.

"Wait! No! You can't take the boat!" Huey shouted but was not heard. Scrooge continued to motion with his hands and order Launchpad. No no no! He couldn't let Uncle Scrooge take the boat! No! He had to stop this! Stop Scrooge! Desperately his brain raced for a plan but mentally he tripped over his own feet. Ahh! Thinking under pressure was hard! Gotta stop Scrooge! Wait! Tripping! That's it!

Huey ran full force into Scrooge! With a shout the two fell into the pool! The splash certainly stopped Scrooge!

"What the blases are ya doing!?" Scrooge cried as he surfaced the pool water. Beakley ran to their side. Launchpad even shut the crane off and joined them too. Beakley helped them out of the water. Once Scrooge and Huey were on land again, he stared down at his nephew. Who, for some reason, was heavily avoiding eye contact.

"What were ya doing lad? Ya could have gotten us hurt!"

"Don't take the boat!" Huey shouted. 

"Huey, I'm not getting rid of it. I'm just moving that thing into storage. I don't want Donald staying on it anymore," Scrooge explained.

"Don't take the boat!" Huey repeated.

"Huey, stop that. I'm moving it and that's final!" 

"You can't take the boat!" 

"Well why not?" 

"Because then it makes it real!" 

With that shout, Huey dropped. He fell to his side and curled into a fetal position. Tears fell hard and fast from his eyes. His soaked body shook from the cold. Immediately Scrooge kneeled beside him.

"Don't touch me!" Huey screamed as Scrooge tried to reach for him. He backed off. Beakley and Launchpad and Scrooge all looked to each other for help. No one knew what to do. Launchpad took his large coat off and gently placed it over the quaking boy. It buried him, for he was small. But it was warm and it shielded him from the outside world. Exactly what Huey needed right now. Safe within his shell, Huey continued to cry.

Scrooge looked helplessly at the soft shell. He nodded wordlessly at Launchpad as if to say good thinking lad. Beakley wanted to speak but didn't. The decision was on Scrooge and he wasn't sure what to do either.

"We'll be alright. Just go on inside," Scrooge quietly told them. They gave him concerning looks but nodded and left. Now it was Scrooge alone, waiting on Huey. He shivered in the wind. Sure it was summer but he was soaked and the wind had picked up. Impatience nipped at him. Just rip the coat off and demand answers! This disrespectful behavior in your mansion must be confronted! But Scrooge breathed. In and out. Control. Patience. This was not a situation for hostility and aggression. It's time to be a better man. Wait for Huey. He will explain himself if given some space first. 

Despite the growing insistence of impatience, Scrooge waited. And waited. And waited. Impatience moved to gnawing on him. He ignored it as best as he could. Although it took some time, he could hear the crying quiet down. Hopefully soon Huey would pop out like a little turtle. 

And eventually pop out Huey did. 

Slowly movement came from the coat. Little shakes that gave away to reveal Huey underneath. Scrooge sighed in relief. Huey's eyes were red and he shook a little but it was good to see him out. Crawling slowly, Huey came to sit in front of Scrooge. Still not quite able to meet his eyes.

"Are ya ready to talk about what's been bothering ya lad?" Scrooge asked. Huey nodded. Then he sighed. Huey grabbed his hat and began to squeeze and wring it. 

"I'm sorry I pushed you into the pool Uncle Scrooge," Huey began.

"It's alright lad. I forgive ya," Scrooge said as he put a hand on Huey's shoulder. A weak smile came to Huey's face. 

"So...why is taking the boat such a bad thing?" Scrooge asked.

"Because if you take the boat...it makes it real, Huey said softly, wringing his hat even tighter. Even though he was feeling better, this still hurt. 

"I don't understand."

"Ever since you told us about...about Uncle Donald...I've uh. I've been pretending that he's just...just away at work. I know it's a lie but it's been...it's been easier to lie to myself than deal with how much I'm hurting. I love you. And mom. But I can't lose Uncle Donald," Huey said as he hid his face into his hands. 

"I know it's childish. I know it's not logical. But reality hurts too much right now," he continued, feeling ashamed. 

Scrooge wrapped his arms around Huey and pulled him into his lap. It surprised him but he welcomed his great uncle's affection. Scrooge hugged Huey as he sat in his lap.

"I understand Huey. I've eh...I have also been having some difficulty...accepting what's happened," Scrooge confessed. 

"I don't understand why he would do this. I know things have been hard on him but...this?" Huey struggled to find the words. He leaned into his uncle's chest for support. It'd be so easy if he just knew everything. But he didn't. Scrooge's heartbeat bumped lightly against Huey's ear. The warmth from his arms and the heartbeat were so comforting. Then he heard a small hum. And then a voice. Wow, he realized. Scrooge was singing.

_"Gille beag o, gille lag o_   
_Gille beag o, nan caorach thu_   
_Gille beag o, nan caorach thu_

_Gille nan caorachan, gille nan caorachan_   
_Gille nan caorachan, gaolach thu_   
_Gille nan caorachan, gaolach thu,"_

Scrooge's voice, low and soft, surprised Huey with how beautiful it sounded. He'd never heard Uncle Scrooge sing before. His voice trailed off, leaving only his heartbeat to listen to. Huey felt so relaxed and loose now. Like all his worries just melted away. He hadn't forgotten them. But now they just seemed so much more manageable. He wasn't afraid like he was before. He felt safe.

Also this was normally the part where Huey would ask Scrooge questions about what he just sang. Language? Translation? Anything? Right now though he was content. He could ask about it later.  
  
"I don't fully understand either," Scrooge began. 

"I don't understand and I wish I did. I want to fix the whole situation and I don't know how. I just don't know...But Donald is in the hospital. He's safe there. The doctors are helping him with his mind. When he comes back, he'll be healthier than ever. I trust them," Scrooge said. 

"They're not gonna keep him forever?" Huey asked.

"Not at all. I miss him so much already but he'll be back before we know it," Scrooge confidently stated.

"Uncle Scrooge...do you think we can go see him?" Huey shyly asked. Scrooge smiled. 

"Of course lad. Not tonight however. It's getting late. But soon," he promised. The wind gusted, making both of them chatter. 

"Aye, I think we best getting back inside now though," Scrooge said. Huey nodded and jumped up. 

"I'll take Launchpad his jacket," Scrooge added as he picked it up. 

"Were you serious before Uncle Scrooge? About wanting Uncle Donald to come live in the mansion?" Huey asked. Scrooge smiled sadly as he heaved the giant jacket over his shoulder. 

"Aye...it's been my dream ever since that cursed night. To have both Della and Donald back under the mansion roof. But Donald and I struggle to get along so much that when he insisted on staying in the boat I...I didn't want to fight him on it. I just let him do...what he wanted. As long as he was close to home again. I've been meaning to try to convince him to join us inside from now on but...I just didn't get to it for some reason. But now, he'll have to," Scrooge explained. 

"I think I'm gonna go get changed and maybe read for a bit," Huey said. 

"Sure thing lad. I'm sure Beakley will have supper ready soon," Scrooge smiled. "And Huey, thank ya for opening up to me."

"Thank you for listening. And not pushing me before I was ready," Huey smiled back. Despite physically shivering Huey felt warm and light. The weight seemed gone. His mind felt better. Okay so maybe he was still a little worried. Just a little. But it would be okay. He had faith. 

Hury dried himself off with a towel. Should he shower? He had one this morning. But he fell into chlorine water. Eh. Not right now. A shower could happen after dinner. He'd be fine. He changed into a dry clean shirt. His hat and shirt needed to be washed though before the chlorine damaged them. Hmmm. That hat can't go in the washer though. It would ruin the bill. Hey maybe the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook would have something on how he could clean it. As always, Huey reached for the guidebook. Something slipped out as he pulled it to him. What was that? A letter? ....Oh. Huey remembered. 

Did he dare? What if it was something bad? Or sad? He looked to the bedroom door. Outside that door was people who cared about him. Loved him and supported him. No matter how much hurt this letter could do him, Huey was not alone....he tore the letter open.

_"Dear Huey,_

_There's something I want to make sure you always know. And that's how much I love you. How proud I am of you. And how wonderful you are. I know you can be critical of yourself. You have doubts. You can struggle at times. I promise you this is normal. It happens. But don't get caught in these thoughts. When you feel like this, remember how great you are. You're incredibly intelligent, brave, kind, loving, well organized. You want to look out for everyone. You want structure. And also you want adventure and the unknown. This is all what makes you, you. Don't let anybody, not even yourself, convince you it's a bad thing. You are wonderful. You are worthy. You are enough. No matter what._

_With all my love, Uncle Donald."_

Huey put down the letter and cried. A little bit sad, a little bit happy. But mostly, he felt loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry it took so long whoops. I took a week off to write for Donsy Week but then afterwards I had a lot of difficulty figuring out how to write the words. Huey especially was hard for me cause his mind is very different from mine so I'm trying to write him properly and brain just like ????
> 
> So I really hope this chapter is still good and worth the wait. More is coming! Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are incredibly encouraging. 
> 
> Another massive thank you to my betas and their time and patience with me. Your encouragement and support and help has been incredibly massive so thank you Alyssa and Cass 💙💙💙💙💙 You two are such tremendous help.
> 
> Edit: Totally forgot the translation for Scrooge's song! It's calles Gille beag o, a gaelic lullaby. The translation I selected goes 
> 
> Wee boy, delicate boy
> 
> Wee boy you are of the sheep  
> Wee boy you are of the sheep
> 
> Boy of the sheep, boy of the sheep
> 
> Boy of the sheep, you are darling  
> Boy of the sheep, you are darling
> 
> I just thought that was very gentle and sweet and sounds exactly like something you'd sing to a young boy.


	3. Transition//Ending and Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback Chapter 
> 
> 2003\. Donald Duck is 21 years old in a turbulent time in his life, about to graduate from college. Plans are made and broken and made again. Featuring José and Panchito AKA the bestest of bros, a rough night of partying, lots of crying, Della trying to be a good sister, and Scrooge in a constant battle of strength vs feelings. At the center of it all of course is one very angsty sad boi Donald Duck.

**May 26th 2003**

"I cannot believe we are so close to graduation!" José cried! Donald and Panchito nodded in excitement too. 

"4 long years finally pay off...oh I cannot wait! Soon I will be teaching young ones the joys of music!" Panchito commented. He had worked hard on his Bachelor of Music Education in order to become a music teacher. He strummed his guitar excitedly to drive the point further. The joyful sound echoed across the McDuck Manor garage.

"And I will be sending travelers on the trips of their dreams! With my own tourism business!" José declared proudly. His business degree and minor in tourism would pave the way to paradise. He hit the keys on the keyboard also in excitement. 

"And I will have my perfectly safe job as an accountant," Donald finished. His Bachelors degree of Mathematics will open the door to a normal, boring job. José and Panchito gave him odd looks.

"Amigo, I know you have explained it to us why you picked such a boring career but I still just...do not understand," Panchito said. 

"Yes I agree. I understand your logic Donal' but still. Why not pick something more fun and artistic, like you?" José added. 

"Because! A nice boring job is stable. Has opportunities. I'll be able to find work and have a... as Scrooge would say, a "real job." Artistic jobs just...don't really have the stability. Which I really need. I can do fun stuff on my own time," Donald explained. His two friends exchanged glances and shrugged. 

"Well we're making it work," José said.

"You don't have the weight of the judgement of Scrooge McDuck breathing down your neck all your life and forever afterwards," Donald sighed irritably. Vivid memories flashed before his eyes of the disappointment Scrooge looked at him with. When he said how he wanted to be an artist. A singer. A musician. A photographer. An author. No matter what he said, Scrooge struck back.

 _"The arts are not jobs! We don't need any more freeloader cry babies in the world and you will not be one Donald! You're better than that and I expect better!"_

Even when Donald tried to think outside the box for a satisfying job, Scrooge found a way to discourage him instantly. 

A music teacher, _"You're not good with children. And they will not be good with you."_

A professional translator, _"Donald, let me make this clear. You are nearly impossible to understand in English. Speaking another language will be even worse. Besides those loafers should learn the language themselves."_

A cruise boat captain, _"What? To cater to lazy no good loafers like Gladstone? Absolutely not young man."_

"There's just nothing that will make Scrooge happy unless it's math, science, healthcare, or law," Donald groaned. Like how when he told his uncle he'd be going to college for a math degree the way he actually seemed proud for once. _"Good on ya lad. Finally, getting yerself a real job."_

"Donal', this is your life! You must live for you! Why care what Señor Moneybags thinks?" José asked. 

"Well...he's...he's my family," Donald weakly protested. 

_Because he's my family. Because despite how much he's hurt me or upset me, I still love him. I still need him in my life. I just want him to be proud of me..._

"Do not dwell on negative things! Think only of how happy we will be come graduation! Scrooge will be proud of you Donald. And so will your sister. And then! Ahhh we will all drive south to San Azul. A beautiful small town. We will stay in our rental house on the beach for a week and celebrate our success! Do not dwell on such sadness Donald," Panchito greatly encouraged. He hugged Donald from the side and smiled at him. Donald returned the smile.

"You're right...thanks pal," Donald said. 

"Anytime amigo," Panchito replied. 

* * *

Graduation. One of the happiest days of Donald Duck's life. Finally. After 4 long hard years. It hadn't been for nothing. Tonight, he'd be walking across the stage of the Calisota State University, shake hands with the college head, and walk away with his degree. Scrooge and Della would be here. Front row with all the other family members. Fethry and Gladstone couldn't make it. Fethry was at an internship out of state for his marine biology interests. And Gladstone was....well Gladstone. Off on his free travels no doubt. He didn't mind not having that absolute dick be there but he was a little sad Fethry wasn't coming. But he had his sister and his uncle at least. Della would congratulate him and probably call him a nerd. In her own weird loving way. Scrooge might pat his shoulders. Maybe Scrooge would even say he's proud of him, for once. Donald quietly hoped for it. Despite how much they fought he did really love Scrooge...he really wanted to finally be good enough for Scrooge. Even if he'd never tell him that. But today would finally be the day! At least hopefully. 

Nothing could get him down now! Not even these ugly yellow robes and cap they had to wear. Seriously, who's idea was this??? Yes yellow and white were the school colors but yellow robes? Especially this shade? Ugh. Hideous. 

Donald turned his attention away from the robes and back onto the room. The dorm he'd been staying in for the past four years. He knew it would have been cheaper to stay in the mansion. But really...it was time. Donald needed to put more space between him and Scrooge. He'd visit on the weekends sometimes. Mostly just to use the garage to practice music with José and Panchito. He'd join them on the occasional short adventure. But he needed his space. He needed to get away from that life. No more adventures. Scrooge and Della wanted to live that life, fine. Their choice. They'd never stop adventuring. It would never be enough no matter what they found or experienced. There would always need to be more adventures. And Donald himself was through with adventuring. All the pain, the injuries, the scars. The close calls and the near misses and brushes with death....Donald knew he just couldn't take it anymore. He wanted a normal life! What was so wrong with just having a normal life huh?! Well whatever. He'd work to support himself and be independent from them. Maybe he'd even meet someone special and have a family. Even though it felt impossible with his bad luck, he'd like that very much. Hopefully someday he could be a dad. And he'd use everything within him to be the best dad he could be. If that day ever came. A strong, independent family man. What a dream.

But enough of that. He shook his head. Time to finish packing. This dorm room needed to be empty and cleaned by tonight. Scrooge told him he was welcome to come back to the mansion and he was gonna have to take that offer up. For a while. Soon as he secured a good job, he'd start looking for his own place. He'd visit Scrooge and Della certainly. But this was definitely for the best. Less time spent around them meant less adventures. Less fighting. It was for the best. 

Even if....he'd miss them.  
Even if he'd worry about them. 

.....

...This was for the best. 

* * *

A knock on the door got Donald's attention. He answered it not surprised at all to see Panchito and José standing there. The three let out joyful sounds in greeting. 

"Ready to go Donal'?" José asked.

"Almost! Just gotta take this last box to my car," Donald proudly said. The dorm looked spotlessly clean. The only thing left in the room was the one box he hadn't taken out yet and then his graduation robes. 

"We'll help you," Panchito offered.

"Thanks you guys," said Donald as José and Panchito lifted the last box for him. The three walked it out to Donald's car. Carefully placing it in, Donald then slammed the trunk shut satisfactorily. 

"Alright! Now just grab your robes! We're gonna get that quick bite before we got to the auditorium," José reminded them.

"I know I know gimme a second," Donald raced back to the room. He picked up the plastic bag, still disgusted with the yellow color. He took one last look around the plain white walls and floors that made up his "home" for the last four years. Gone were the posters and the dishes and the dirty clothes on the floor. It was time for his transition into a functioning adult of society. No longer a student. But an independent working man. He sighed looking back down at the robes. 

"I wish you were here to see this...I hope you'd be proud of me," Donald said aloud. 

"I bet you'd love these awful robes mama. You'd wanna take a ton of pictures of me in them and somehow find me handsome in them. And papa, I bet you'd be proud especially of how good my grades were despite everything. And I'd remind you of what you always said to me. "Ducks don't back down." And I didn't. Even when it was hard. And now I'm graduating college...  
And I really wish you two were here," Donald choked out and wiped the tears forming in his eyes. 

"Donal'? You alright?" José asked from the doorway. Donald quickly straightened out. 

"Yeah yeah. Just lost in thought," he quickly lied. However José did not miss the sadness in his friend's eyes.

"No no my friend. You are troubled. Come, tell us," José softly said as he gently hugged Donald from the side. Panchito who was right behind José came to hug Donald on the other side.

"Yes friend, tell us. Do not carry your burdens alone," Panchito softly added. Their warmth and kindness radiated around him. Their touch was gentle and didn't trigger fiery pain or strong panic within him. This time. Donald sighed. 

"I'm sorry guys I just...I'm just sad..." he said. 

"It's okay Donal' you can tell us," José said.

"I just...I miss my parents so much today. I wish they were here..." Donald paused feeling another wave of sadness overcome him. Tears slipped out of his eyes. And guilt racked him as well.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be sad. I know I still have Della and Scrooge coming. You two don't have any family here at all. I'm so sorry," he tearfully apologized to his friends.

"Donald Donald, shhhh. Do not be," said Panchito. 

"Yes it is sad my family cannot afford to come visit from Bahia," José began.

"And it is sad my mother is too ill to travel up from Mexico City," Panchito continued.

"And it is sad that your parents died so they cannot be here," José added.

"It is all sad," Panchito nodded.

"But we are the three Caballeros! We are here for each other!" The two of them finished in unison. 

Donald found himself laughing a little through his tears. His friends returned the smile despite their sadness as well. Donald wiped his tears again.

"Thanks you guys," he said softly.

"Always my friend. Always," Panchito promised.

"Now let us go eat! For the ceremony will be quite long and so will the drive down to San Azul!" José added.

"Remind me to thank your family for the money they gave us for the rental," Donald said.

"They will appreciate it Donal'. Since they cannot travel, they want to gift us. For us to have a grand time in celebration! And many pictures of us. I'll get them printed after I get the copy of the graduation tape I pre ordered." 

"I need some of those for my mama as well," Panchito said. 

"Still, can you believe these yellow robes they are making us wear!? Aye, they clash with my feathers!" José feigned horror.

"That's what I'm saying! They're hideous!" Donald cried.

"I rather like them," Panchito shrugged. 

"That doesn't count. You have poor taste," José teased.

"Do not be silly, I have great tastes! For one, I have you two as my best friends!" Panchito happily cried. 

The Three Caballeros found themselves all grinning as big as they could.

* * *

Just under an hour later the three of them had eaten and returned to their university. They quickly ran for the bathrooms and got changed into their robes and caps. Then they raced to the auditorium. Most everyone else was already there but thankfully the trio was not late. As the final students arrived, the dean guided everyone through one last rehearsal. The students would be seated in the front set of seats. Families would be seated in the first row of the second cluster of seats. It'd be easy, just like high school graduation. Walk through the audience. Sit in the assigned seats. Come up to the stage right before your name was called. Walk across the stage. Accept diploma. Shake hands and smile. Walk off stage and sit back down. In practice it was all so simple. But it carried tremendous weight. Years of hard work. Countless hours spent, and unfortunately, a high amount of dollars spent too. All overcame to meet this moment right here. And Donald dared to be proud of himself for it.

As 5 o'clock came, so did the families and friends of the graduates. The students waited backstage standing in line for the walk. Anxious, excitement, joyful, sadness, all various energies flowing through the air. Donald wasn't really sure where he was emotionally at the moment. Excited but he also kinda felt on verge of throwing up for some dumb reason. He took deep breaths trying to settle himself. 

José was also uncharacteristically anxious. His breathing seemed labored. He clutched Donald's arm for support. Panic and pain spread through Donald's body from that spot but he bit his tongue. This was not the time for his weird touch aversion to flare up. José needed him. So Donald ignored the assault of negative feelings his mind conjured as best he could and instead whispered encouraging words. Panchito also joined in easing him. 

At 5:30 the music began to play. It was time.

Donald, José, and Panchito all took deep breaths and their places in line. The walk through the audience began. Donald held his head high so when Scrooge and Della saw him they'd all share in the proud moment together. He scanned the seats as they walked past but for some reason he couldn't see them anywhere. Okay well maybe it was just that they all walked by too fast for him to see them. Soon the line was seated and the head of the university began to speak. As he spoke of hard work, perseverance, and overcoming, Donald tried to look around for them. He tried to not be obvious, moving with slow and minimal movements. But Scrooge and Della weren't anywhere to be seen. 

Okay fine. They were just out of view from where he was seated. It was a huge auditorium after all. Hundreds of people were gathered here today. 

Soon it was time for Donald to stand on the edge of the stage. His name was next. With careful movements he made his way to the stage. He'd have to put his search on hold. Besides, he'd probably find them from up on the stage. He brushed himself quickly and sighed. This was his moment. If there was an afterlife, hopefully mama and papa were watching proudly. And somewhere out in those seats was his sister and his uncle. 

"Next, graduating magna cum laude with a Bachelors degree of Mathematics, Donald Duck!" 

Donald stepped proudly up on stage and into the blinding lights. Amongst the polite claps of the crowd, he could here José and Panchito, whistling and whooping for him. He grinned although he couldn't see out into the audience very well. Darn, he'd completely forgotten about how bright these lights would be. Proudly he strode to the middle of the stage and shook the hand of the college head. His heart thumped as he was handed his diploma. His smile grew even bigger. Then he continued to walk back off stage as he was supposed to and found his seat. His fingers traced over the frame. He read the words in the elegant font over and over again.

_"Honoring the work and efforts required, Calisota State University proudly awards this Bachelors of Mathematics degree to Donald Duck on May 30th, 2003. For outstanding efforts upon the student's part, we additionally recognize Donald Duck as magna cum laude for scoring within the top 10% of the class."_

Various signatures and dates signed across the bottom. Donald could just about cry. He'd done it!

The rest of the students receiving their diplomas whipped by for Donald, other than his two pals. He gave enthusiastic cheers for them when they received theirs. Time ticked by, Donald was still holding on to the high of happiness and pride in himself and his friends. Before he even knew it they were being told to rise. Everyone stood and on cue, turned their tassels. 

"And now, I proudly present, The Calisota State University Class of 2003!" 

Caps flew up into the air with cheers and applause! Hugs and handshakes were passed joyfully! The Three Caballeros raced to each other and jumped for joy! The crowds slowly trickled out into the large common area where food and photo ops were available. Panchito dragged his pals to one of them and the three snagged a few photographs.

"These are so beautiful!" Panchito cried when the students doing the photos handed them their results. "I cannot wait to send these to my mama!"

"I agree! What about you Donal'? What do you think? ....Donal'?" José asked, noticing his duck friend wasn't listening. Donald's eyes were out among the crowd. Searching. 

"Donald? Are you alright?" Panchito asked. Donald shook himself then looked away sheepishly.

"Sorry," he mumbled, barely audible. 

"They are here somewhere. Do not fret," José encouraged. 

"I wanna look by the food," Donald suddenly shot upright, speaking more clearly. "Scrooge can't resist the free food." 

"Good idea! Also I would love one of those...cupcakes...Is that the correct word?" Panchito commented. 

Donald walked away quickly trying to hide the desperation in him. It was embarrassing to him but it was growing steadily. Come on Scrooge. Where are you and Della hiding?

Tables lined in yellow and white, covered in food and cups, all looked over as Donald looked for any sign of his two relatives. Many people surrounded him and yet not the ones he searched for. 

"I'm sure they're here somewhere Donal'," said José behind him.

A pit began to form in Donald's stomach as he looked more and more into the crowd. It bubbled up into his chest, feeling a tightening sensation as it climbed. Even his mouth began to feel dry and taste sour.

"They're not here," he rasped out. He pushed his way through the crowd, growing more and more certain of it. So many faces passed and still not them. His breathing got tighter. All of a sudden the crowd seemed overwhelming. Too much! Too many! Too many faces! Too much noise! The weight of judgement that might not even be there surrounded him. He had to get away! 

José and Panchito lost Donald in the crowd however a flash of action caught their eyes. Several people fell near the school exit. Quickly they headed out that way. They stopped to help up the people who had fallen and offered apologies before getting outside too. 

The evening air was chilly. The sun had already mostly set, leaving the skies a strange gray color. The bright overhead lights were on, illuminating the entrance and the parking lot. Somewhere out here had slipped their friend and they were going to find him.

Panchito shushed José for a moment and pointed. Off to their right they could hear gasping. The two nodded and headed to the darker area of the lot. Soon they were at a bench, with Donald sitting on it, gasping and shaking.

"Donald, there you are. Why did you run?" Panchito asked as he slowly sat beside his friend. Donald buried his face into his hands. A barely audible "go away" came from him.

"Please do not push us away...we're the three Caballeros remember? We are there for each other through fair or stormy weather," José said as he sat on the other side of Donald. For a long moment there was silence. Panchito and José exchanged worried looks.

"Donald, do you want to leave? We can head for San Azul now if you want?" Panchito offered. Still nothing, no response from their friend other than his gasps. José gently laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and rubbed softly, Panchito mimicked it the action. It seemed to help. Donald finally stopped gasping. His breathing slowed. His trembling steadied. He finally pulled his face out of his hands. Pained glances were thrown back and forth as Donald finally met their eyes, tears still sliding from his. 

"I'm sorry," he began. "I'm so sorry. The crowd it just....it was too much. I got so scared..."

"We understand," José said.

"They're not here...They said they'd be here and they're not!" Donald choked out.

"It is a huge gathering Donald. I'm sure they are here. I am sure of it. Aye, I have an idea. Why don't we go sit at a bench closer to the entrance. We can watch for them that way without having to face the crowds again, yes?" Panchito offered. Donald nodded.

"Sounds good," he mumbled. The three walked to a closer bench. He ran to his car and grabbed his bag with his change of clothes and also stuffed his diploma in it real quick before rejoining them. Some people had already begun leaving the college but it was still rather early. Gosh was it really? Donald felt so drained now he could've sworn it'd been hours. Panchito and José both shivered when the wind gusted but to him it felt good. He'd gotten really warm apparently. 

"I'm really sorry guys..."

"Donal', please. Do not be," José said.

"It's dumb...I shouldn't get so worked up...." Donald watched as more people left and yet still no sign of Scrooge and Della. 

"They're not here...of course they're not," Donald sighed. "I...I really thought they'd be here. Guess that's my fault then. For thinking I'm important to them."

"¡No digas eso!" Panchito cried.

"¡Pero es verdad!" Donald snapped in reply. 

"Of course you are important Donal', do not deny it," José interjected. Donald crossed his arms and sighed.

"No...of course they forgot or something. Of course...I...I knew it would. I tried to dare think that for once it wouldn't fucking happen but no," he laughed bitterly. "I just...even though I knew it would, I still can't believe how much it hurts." His hand came up to his chest. The pumping of his heart was fast and painful. Pin prick pain in his eyes as tears threatened to break free. Even his head began to pound painfully. José and Panchito exchanged worried looks.

"No no amigo, it is not true. They are here. Let's just wait a little longer, the crowd is getting thinner," Panchito encouraged. Donald sighed. 

"Fine. We'll wait a bit longer," he said. 

And so the Three Caballeros waited.

And waited.

And watched.

And waited.

45 minutes after they graduated, the majority of the crowd had gone. All of them knew the truth but José and Panchito did not want to voice it. For some reason, Della and Scrooge were not here. It made uncharacteristic anger stew in the both of them. The chill of the night wind helped keep their cool at least. Somewhat. The ugly yellow robes didn't offer much protection against the wind. 

Donald finally sighed and spoke. 

"Look guys...why don't you two head out for San Azul already? I'll follow here shortly."

"Are, are you sure?" José asked. 

"Yeah. I'm just gonna go do something real quick. Don't wait for me though," he said as he stood up from the bench, grabbing his bag. 

"But we can. It's a long drive and it's already so dark and late. Wouldn't it be safer for you to foll-"

"I said just go!" Donald yelled. His hands immediately flew over his beak. Tears immediately began slipping out his eyes in guilt and he turned and ran inside. The two remaining Caballeros looked at each other sadly.

"Well....I'm ready if you are," José said. Panchito nodded. The two wordlessly made their way to José's car. 

"I feel so helpless Ze," Panchito said when they got in. 

"I know...me too," he replied. 

Inside the rest room Donald felt like he might throw up. Foul, bile taste filled his mouth. Pain twisted his stomach. And painful tears fell out of his eyes. He kept splashing water on his face but it was no use. He couldn't wash off his toxicity. No wonder nobody wanted anything to do with him. He was poison. Infecting anyone and everyone who came near him. He was bad luck, a jinx, the worst. Everyone knew it. He ruined everything. His parents wouldn't have died in that car crash if his bad luck hadn't seeped into them and poisoned them. Della and Scrooge wouldn't be plagued with his existence if he wasn't around. Even the few people he dared to call his friends...Mickey, Goofy, José, Panchito...all of them suffered from his toxicity. It was only a matter of time before they left him too just like Goofy and Mickey did. And why wouldn't they? He was the worst friend on the planet. 

He finally threw off the now very wet in the front god awful yellow robes. From the bag he brought with him he pulled out his change of clothes. He slipped on his black muscle shirt and long sleeved red flannel. He probably should return the robes at the return bin but fuck it. He tossed them into the trash bin instead. Just like where he belonged. He stormed out of the rest room and out of the university for the last time. Looking out into the now almost completely empty parking lot Donald was relieved to see José's car was gone. Good. They needed to get away from him and his toxicity. Before he ruined them too. 

Donald walked slowly to his beat up little green vehicle. It wasn't pretty by any means but thankfully the damn thing worked. It made Donald sigh again looking at it. When he and Della had turned 18, they received the money their parents had left them. It wasn't much but Scrooge apparently at least assisted in a few smart investments which helped their savings grow a little more. Donald put his towards getting this vehicle and towards his college classes. Della put hers towards that freaking plane of hers, the Cloudslayer. Donald fumbled with his keys, dropping them a few times. Muttering angrily to himself he finally got the darn car door unlocked. Just as he almost tossed his bag into his passenger side, he paused. Under the parking lot light, he pulled out his diploma and took another long look at it. It had looked so beautiful under the stage lights. Like he was holding a diamond. Now out in the cold darkness, under a dim cheap outdoor light, it looked about as appealing as common gravel. He sighed. All that hard work. All that time and money spent. All that excitement and anticipation. For this piece of junk. No wonder Scrooge and Della didn't show. Not for him and certainly not for that waste. Guess he should have been more like Della and skipped college altogether.   
~~Guess he should have been more like Della, period.~~

Into the car he tossed the bag and the diploma. Moments later he heard tires screech and doors fly open. He looked towards the sound and felt some weird combination of shock and irony. There was the limo. And there was Scrooge and Della, running out of it.

The two of them ran up to him and he sighed. They both stopped and gasped for air when they caught up to him.

"We're so sorry we're late lad. We tried to hurry. I had Duckworth get us here as fast as possible," Scrooge coughed out. 

"You weren't here," was all Donald found himself able to say. He knew it but seeing it with his own eyes made it hurt all over again. Stabbing pain right into his heart. 

"Donald please it's all my fault," Della said as she finally got her breathing under control.   
"I was the one who told Uncle Scrooge let's take a quick fly by up north to look at some crop circles that were being reported. I thought they might be a sign left by lost people of Laquazare. The crop circles looked like their runes. But it was a bust, just a prank pulled by some kids. Before we knew it, it was so late...We meant to be back sooner, it's all my fault," she explained. Her beak trembled and she truly looked sorry. And it was infuriating. 

"I really mean it Donnie I'm so sorry," she said as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. As she trembled, he began to shake too. In anger. He shoved her off of him.

"Oh yes! Crop circles! Of course! How important! You just had to drop everything and spend the whole day to go investigate some fucking crop circles!" Donald yelled. Tears fell from her eyes. Only making him angrier. Hot angry tears threatened to rain from his as well. 

"Don't talk to ya sister like that Donald! It could have an incredible discovery!" Scrooge argued. Donald's anger turned to him.

"It could have been a great discovery! You know what really was important though, my graduation!" Donald continued to yell. "There was no maybe or possibly about it! It was important to me that you two were here and you weren't!" 

The tears began to fall from his eyes and he screwed them shut. No! He was NOT going to cry in front of them!

"Donald I'm so sorry! I'll, I'll, make it up to you!" Della stammered. Scrooge attempted to put a hand on Donald's shoulder but Donald instinctively slapped it away.

"How!? How are you going to make up missing my graduation to me, huh Della!?" Donald hollered. Della looked lost. She closed her eyes and sighed. He was right. She said it without really thinking about what it meant. Of course she couldn't just make this up to him. 

"You two are so addicted to adventure, you know that?! You just can't stop! You won't stop! You're so addicted to having adventures that you refuse to stop and have a life! I can't take it! I can't live like you two!" Donald shouted as he threw his diploma into his car. 

"It was an accident Donald! We certainly can have both but we made a mistake! For a grown man ya sure are acting like a child!" Scrooge yelled back. This was infuriated. He despised Donald's temper tantrums.

"Don's right Uncle Scrooge...we should have been here," Della timidly interrupted. 

"Donald needs to stop being a child! It's not all about him! We had to take the chance on the adventure!" Scrooge shouted. 

"Why am I not good enough for you Scrooge?! Why!? Why is it everything I ever do just isn't good enough for you!?" 

"What are you talking about Donald?" Scrooge growled. 

"Everytime there's something that's important to just me, you two miss it! Any time I did a school play or a music recital, anything that didn't also involve Della, the two of you end up gone on some adventure and miss it!" Donald cried, the tears dangerously close to falling. His throat was beginning to ache again. 

"What nonsense are ya going on about, boy?" Scrooge demanded.

"Actually Uncle Scrooge...he's right. We keep doing this," Della said. 

"That's not true Della! I won't listen to another word of this slander! Donald! We meant to be here! But ya know adventure doesn't go on a schedule!" 

"Oh forget it! Yeah! Hope your fucking crop circles meant the world to you Scrooge. Hope your stupid adventures fill whatever void I just can't! Once again I'm sorry I'm so lame and pathetic and boring that you don't love me!" Donald shouted as he stepped into his car. Harshly he switched the ignition on. The older vehicle groaned to turn on but fired up.

"Donald! I'm so sorry! Don't go! Please! I'm here right now and so is Uncle Scrooge! We can make this right!" Della's muffled yells came through the window. Donald's glare pierced through the glass into her heart. Wordlessly he put the car into reverse. He gave one last strong look of anger at them before speeding off. 

Donald drove away from university for the last time, tears falling from his face, and his diploma thrown recklessly about. Graduation was one of the worst days of his life. 

* * *

Inside the limo the silence was so thick it could almost be physical. Della couldn't stop staring out at the water that they drove past. Tears still falling silently from her. Scrooge reached over and gently took her hand.

"It'll be alright lass," he finally said.

"We messed up Uncle Scrooge....I messed up...Should've just left those stupid crop circles alone," she muttered.

"He'll live Della."

"But he's right...I cared more about finding a lost civilization than making it there. I didn't intentionally forget. But I didn't prioritize....And this isn't the first time I didn't prioritize..." Della's head hung lower. 

"There's nothing wrong with adventure," Scrooge countered. 

"There is when it hurts your family," Della said. 

"Donald's just being emotional," Scrooge argued more firmly.

"Except he was right. We should have been there. I don't know how I'm gonna make it up to him. Oh what kind of a sister am I? I keep doing this. Missing things that are important to him...why do I do this..." Della sighed. 

The rest of the ride home was silent. Scrooge didn't want to argue further but he was offended by his nephew's lack of seeing the bigger picture. Had the discovery been legitimate it would have been truly a historical find! 

...Oh who was he kidding? 

He messed up. He hurt Donald. His dear nephew...his...his son. A proud accomplishment to be had and he wasn't there for it. Why? Why did he do this? Why wasn't he there? Why had he let himself neglect it?

And why couldn't he just swallow his pride and apologize?

* * *

Donald drove in pure silence. No music. No thoughts. Just the rumble of the engine. The beat of his heart. Adrenaline and exhaustion battled for control. Was he drained or wound up? He didn't know and didn't care to think about it otherwise. No thoughts. No tears. No fucks given. 

Thankfully the road was unusually quiet today, hardly saw another vehicle. Away he drove. Away from CSU. Away from Duckburg. Away from Della and Scrooge. Down south he continued the long drive. 

More than an hour later, still driving in numb silence, did he finally pull up to the address of the rental beach house. José's vehicle being here obviously meant the two arrived before he did. Donald shut his car off and rested his head against the wheel. He sighed heavily. Mentally he wasn't ready to face his friends yet. They were probably going to ask what took him so long and he didn't want to be reminded. They were supposed to be celebrating graduation and he didn't want to be reminded. Don't make me think of it. It hurts so much I want it out of my head. It's taking everything in me to keep it at bay. I can't handle it right now. Just wanna get wasted and forget this whole day ever happened. 

"Donald? Are you alright?" Panchito's muffled voice came from the outside of the vehicle. Donald shot upright, hitting his head on the car roof. He exited the car with a groan.

"We have been waiting for you Donald. Are you alright?" Panchito asked.

"Did you get any alcohol?" Donald asked, completely ignoring Panchito's question.

"Uhh...well uh. Of course we did. I even splurged and got us the good tequila," Panchito smirked as the two walked into the rental beach house. Inside was a clean open space with light tropical theme decorations throughout. The large stereo system was set to samba music. José was already dancing lightly along with the beat when he saw his friends.

"Donal'! You were frightening us! We thought something may have happened!" He cried. Donald didn't say anything instead moving right for the open kitchen. Various junk food, bottles of beer, and the large bottle of high quality tequila sat out on the counter. Donald grabbed the large bottle and pulled it open, immediately taking a long drink.

Behind him his friends immediately cried out a flurry of his name and stop doing thats. Panchito physically pried it away from him.

"Donald, stop it! This is far too strong to be chugging like that!" Panchito yelled. 

"Whatever!" Donald yelled back.

"Do not "whatever" this Donal'. You do not drink much! Too much of this will make you sick and we are far from the hospital! We want you to be safe!" José explained. 

Donald sighed and stopped resisting. Panchito then took the bottle with ease. 

"My friend, you do not act like this normally. You are troubled. Please tell us," José asked.

Wordlessly Donald grabbed a beer from the pack and instead sat on the couch slowly drinking it. Low samba music played from the large radio stereo set in the living room area. Glances were nervously exchanged. The two slipped outside.

"That really scared me that he did that," José confessed.

"Aye. Me too. That was very not like him," Panchito agreed. 

"Do you think something happened after we left?" José asked. Panchito only shrugged.

"I understand we are celebrating but that was no celebratory drink. That was a get wasted drink."

"And he's ignoring our questions. But perhaps when the alcohol kicks in more he'll open up more. It's happened before," Panchito said. José nodded, knowing this to be true.

"Forgive me my friend but I will be locking this up in my trunk for tonight," José said revealing the bottle of tequila. A large amount was already gone from Donald's chug. It made him shudder a little. José had witnessed his mother becoming horribly sick as a young child to the point she was hospitalized for some time. It left a permanent fear within ofoverdrinking. Although José had a strong reputation for being a party lover, which he was, José knew his limits. Excessive drinking was not something he did. And he always tried to protect his friends from overdrinking too. 

"No problemo," Panchito said.

José then popped his trunk and his the bottle in it. He trusted Donald probably wouldn't go searching for it but he wanted to keep him safe. He'd only seen Donald drink a few times. It was not something he regularly enjoyed. While Donald wasn't a lightweight, there were a few times he'd had too much and became drunk. For such an angry person, most people would probably think Donald would be an angry drunk too. Not the case. Donald was actually quite the emotional drunk. He'd finally stop holding up his walls so high and so shameful of his emotions and be true. (According to Della, he was "the most messy emotional drunk on the planet" while she turned funnier and sillier than usual. If the stories of their 21st birthday were to be believed.) But as much as José wanted Donald to let go of whatever pained him tonight, he didn't want him to wind up very sick. It was already a bad enough day. After a gentle click of the trunk closing the two slipped back inside.

Donald hadn't moved from the couch. Slowly his head seemed to bounce along with the music. 

"I'm starting the pizza," Panchito announced. José walked over to Donald who he realized was humming along with the music too. The negative mood from before seemed to have faded. At least José hoped. The empty beer bottle at Donald's feet was discarded by José. He slipped the remainder of the beer into the fridge. 

"I'm remaining sober tonight in case I have to drive to the hospital. Don't let Donal' have anymore of this okay? But don't you drink too much either," José said.

"Yes sir I know," Panchito replied. 

José stepped back into the living room space, standing before Donald, who was still humming and nodding pleasantly.

"Gostaria de dançar?" He asked, holding his hand out.

"Sim, eu gostaria," Donald nodded in response. His words came out a little bit slurred but not enough to make José worry. Yet. Donald took his friend's hand and rose. The two began to dance keeping in time with the beat. José simply loved that Donald enjoyed to dance as he and Panchito did. That dancing together was something they could all share in. 

"Hey, wait for me you two!" Panchito laughed as he joined them, turning the music up more. The three were then joined in stepping to the beat, mixing and matching their movies as they went. No choreography, no rules to follow. Just pure energy flowing through and around them. Pure expression as they released excitement and tension through their variety of dance moves. Easily the most fun the three Caballeros had had in quiet some time. They hardly noticed the songs changing, continuing to simply flow not matter the change. 

Minutes flowed by as easily as their steps. Time had no meaning until the buzzing of the oven timer made it important again. Panchito paused his dancing to attend to the food. Donald and José remained in motion. However José was beginning to get more worried as Donald's movements were getting more unsteady. It seemed likely the alcohol was affecting his body more. 

"Perhaps we should take a break? Enjoy some pizza?" José asked Donald. Donald shook his head heavily.

"Nnnnno! No way! I'm having ssssso so much fuuun," Donald's words came out in a heavier slur. Oh boy. 

"Donal', please, you'll make yourself sick," José said as he tried to stop him. Donald pulled his arm away.

"Noooo I wanna dance," Donald protested. 

"Ze, I think he will be okay," Panchito said. José sighed. 

"I'm an adult I can daaance and drink if I want to. And I'm not drunk! I'm not. I'm noooot," Donald stated. 

"Alright Donal', but I'm cutting you off of the alcohol alright? You've had enough. Don't go looking for anymore. Promise?" José insisted. 

"Fiiiiine okaaaaaay," Donald agreed easily, continuing his flurry of strange jerky and unsteady movements. José honestly would feel better if he'd sit down. But Panchito was right, it'd probably be fine. At least there was little furniture for Donald to trip over. He grabbed a piece of still slightly too hot pizza and carefully munched on it watching his friend carefully.

"I am watching him too Ze do not fret," Panchito said from beside him. 

"I'm sorry Panchito I do not mean to hover and worry but this behavior tonight, something is not right," he replied softly.

"Donald is feeling hurt because Scrooge and Della didn't show up remember?" Panchito said.

"How can I forget?" José grumbled.

"He just needs to release his emotions. Don't you remember you two had to do this same thing for me the night my mother called and told me she had cancer? I got so wasted," Panchito chuckled in a bit of embarrassment at himself.

"I told you when to stop but you didn't listen to me," José reminisced.

"Aye. That is true. That was my fault. But you two kept an eye on me and kept me safe. You two let me dance and cry and sing and I felt so much better afterwards."

"I think you felt better after you threw up on the bar floor," José teasingly countered. Panchito blushed in embarrassment. 

"Well....possibly. But that's not the point," he said lowly. 

"I only joke my friend. But yes I...I see your point," José said. Of course just then they heard a loud thud followed with a cry of "ouch!" and radio static. Immediately the two jumped up, seeing Donald stand himself up off the floor although a bit wobbly. The radio settled on a new station, guitar and bass notes filling the room. Donald gasped excitedly.

"I love this song!" He cried. He began swaying and humming along with the tune. Unsure, the other two Cabs sat back down slowly. After watching Donald for another long moment as he began to loudly sing along. The two continued to eat while watching him dance about.

"I miss my family. I think I'm going to go visit them, hopefully soon," José said.

"Great idea. And I agree. I need to go visit my mama," Panchito nodded. The two continued to chat as Donald's singing got louder.

_"This bottle of Steven's awakens ancient feelings!_   
_Like father, stepfather, the son is drowning in the floooood!!!_   
_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!!!_

_Say it ain't sooooo-o-o-oooo,_  
 _Your drug is a heart breaker_  
 _Say it ain't sooooo-o-o-ooooo,_  
 _My love is a life taker!!!"_

Donald's scratchy voice sang the rock song loudly, making his friends cringe. Truthfully...they hated his singing. But they loved and supported him as best as they could. Although they were definitely grateful the song was over. Oh but of course another song Donald declared that he loved was starting. Oh boy. 

"And we love you but you're trying our patience Donald!" Panchito called.

"Why not take a break and eat?" José called too. Donald ignored them and continued to move about. His movement getting more intensive with the harder rock song that played. He sang along with the track. It was like he was getting more and more wound up, on verge of letting go. Would he explode? Would he drop? Would he spin like a top? Honestly who knew? Not Donald. All he knew is his thoughts were on the music and movement. His head was light and spinning. His heart was pounding strongly. His muscles burned from use but it felt phenomenal! He felt free...

_"So go on and scream!_   
_Scream at me, I'm so far away..._   
_I won't be broken again!_   
_I've got to breathe, I can't keep going under!_

_I'm dying again!!!_

_I'm going under!_   
_Drowning in youuuuu!_   
_I'm falling foreveeeer!_   
_I've got to break through, I'm going under!_

_Going under!_   
_I'm going under!!!"_

As if on cue Donald suddenly tripped over his own feet and he fell over hard with a loud thud, his head hitting the ground first. Chairs screeched across hardwood floors. Donald tried go push himself up but he felt so heavy. When did he become so heavy? Did someone turn up the gravity??? He could hear José and Panchito but they sounded far away. Like they were underwater. Now that didn't make any sense. Why would they be underwater? His body was moving but he wasn't in any control of it. Somehow he went from hard to soft. The voices started to become more clear. Then they were perfectly clear. Donald shook his head. He was now sitting upright on the couch. Pain began to course through him. He realized his friends were holding onto his shoulders and he shook them off.

"Please don't touch me," Donald hiccuped. The two affectionate friends pulled away to honor his boundary. They didn't really understand why their friend could be so adversed to a kind touch at times but they respected him. At least he seemed to be able to hold himself up.

"Donal', please no more. You fell really hard and hit your head. Please let me look at you. Are you hurt? Do we need to take you to the hospital?" José fretted over him. Donald kept shaking his head no.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Just leave me alone!" He protested. 

"Why? So you can get sick or hurt yourself? Why are you hiding!? Stop hiding behind your walls and alcohol and just open up to us!" José cried. 

"I'm not hiding! I'm just having fun!" Donald yelled. His good mood was fading fast and being replaced with hot anger.

"You are trying to escape something instead of facing it! I get sometimes we all need to let go but this is a slippery slope and I will not let you fall down it!" José shouted, tears falling from this eyes. 

"Donald, we aren't trying to judge you or intrude on you....we just want you to be safe..." Panchito began. "You're clearly upset about something...please just tell us instead of unhealthly holding it all inside." 

The windup finally ended. The dam burst. Donald could no longer deny the hurt he was trying to escape from. He began to sob. 

José and Panchito were taken a bit back by this. Every instinct in them screamed to embrace their friend and give him comfort. But they patiently awaited beside him as he cried. It was as Panchito said earlier. It was time to release his emotions. So Donald cried his heart out, forgetting whether it was an overreaction or not, whether he was embarrassed or not. He was free to just feel. And this time it was sadness. 

Panchito brought him so water and he slowly drank it. His hiccups finally ceased but his tears still fell. Everything felt so heavy now, especially his head. He leaned onto José's shoulder.

"Tudo bem meu amigo," José said softly to comfort him. 

"How is your head?" Panchito asked. Donald ran a hand over it and through his longish hair feathers. 

"Just a bump. Little tender. I'm okay," Donald muttered. His head was still spinning some but really he wasn't sure if that was from the fall, the dancing, or the alcohol.

"I am sorry for yelling at you but you really scared me Donal'," José said.

"I'm sorry Ze. I just wanted to forget today happened," Donald said. His words no longer slurred. It was as if he sobered up already.

"We were supposed to be celebrating tonight...what happened that upset you instead?" Panchito softly asked scooting closer to his friend on the opposite side. The three Caballeros now nestled together on the couch. The music was off. The silence was deafening. Donald sighed.

"I'm sorry I totally ruined tonight," he began. "We were supposed to be having fun and celebrating and I wrecked it."

"Shhh no do not think that," José said. 

"Just tell us what happened, please," Panchito pleaded. Alright then. No more delays or denials. It was time to face his hurt. 

"I...After I...after you guys left...Scrooge and Della showed up," Donald finally admitted. Panchito and José exchanged glances. Oh....

"And I just...I lashed out at them. Yelled at them. Finally let out some of this anger I've been holding onto about them. About how they aren't there for me...I just...I didn't mean to lash out. But it hurt that they weren't there. That they're never there. Now I just feel worse," Donald said, his voice dropping lower. 

"It's okay Donal'."

"I just don't understand...why does this always have to happen? So many things that are important to me and they just don't show...Why am I not enough? Why am I never enough for Scrooge McDuck? Why does he have to be Scrooge McDuck with me and not "Uncle Scrooge" like he is for Della? And why does Della have to chase him and be like him? She said she was sorry but she...she left too. It was her idea even this time to go..." Donald continued to cry. Panchito and José wrapped their arms around him. A gentle hug shared between them. 

"Why do they hate me? Why aren't they there for me? I know I'm not the thrill seeking adventurer like they are but...why..." he cried. And he cried. Finally letting out the pain he buried even from his friends. They watched sadly although relieved he was finally opening up. They knew of course things were tense in the Duck family but Donald always acted so quiet about it. Always brushing it off like it was nothing. But no one can bottle their feelings forever. 

So they held him and patiently waited as their friend cried.

"Mmmsso sorry m such a baby," he said between sobs. They hushed him and let him continue until finally his sobs slowed. Now nobody was sure of what to say or do. 

"Thank you for opening up to us," Panchito finally broke the silence.

"Thanks for...for letting me," Donald shyly said.

"How are you feeling?" José asked.

"Mmm.....tired....better....a little sore," Donald said.

"You were flapping about as if you were trying to fly," Panchito joked.

"Think I was. Trying to fly away from everything," Donald rubbed his head. Panchito got Donald some more water which he drank. 

"You're not a baby for expressing your pain by the way. Do not let others or yourself convince you that," José said.

"But again do not bottle your feelings up for so long. This leads to unhealthy coping mechanisms and exploding eventually," Panchito added.

"I get it I get it...be right back," Donald said taking off for the rest room. José sighed in relief when Donald walked out of the room.

"What did I tell you, my friend? He's okay. Just needed to release," Panchito said.

"I know...I just was very scared there. Not all releases are healthy," José said. 

"Tomorrow will be a better day," Panchito confidently said. 

Donald came out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his shirt and yawning.

"I uh...I better call it a night. Before I ruin it any further," he said feeling embarrassed all over again.

"You did not ruin it. But I agree bed is a good plan. I feel about ready to head that way myself really," José said with a yawn. 

"A good idea. We shall rest tonight and celebrate our graduation and our healthy friendship tomorrow," added Panchito who was now yawning too. 

The Three Caballeros made their way down the hallway leading to the three bedrooms in the back. 

"Well...goodnight guys...and thank you. For being my friends," Donald said to them. Everyone smiled and said goodnight. 

As Donald laid down in the bed, his mind immediately began to drift away. No thoughts on his pain or his jealousy or frustrations. No thoughts on how he and Scrooge and Della were still aways away from their best version of a family. No his only thoughts were peaceful. Idealistic. About the good life that awaited him and how things will get better. Peace and sleep washed over him like a gentle wave. 

Donald woke up the next morning feeling seering pain go across his body. He groaned as he tried to stand. The resistance in his body made him feel ancient instead of 21. His head pounded and his muscles ached. Slowly he moved out into the kitchen. Panchito was already awake and cooking breakfast. 

"Buenos días Donald," he cheerfully greeted. 

"Buenos días," he groaned in reply. 

"Hmmm hangover?" Panchito asked with a small chuckle.

"Uhh...I guess," Donald replied. He sat down slowly at the table. Panchito set down some water and a plate with cut up fruit and pancakes on it. 

"Here my friend. This should help," he said. 

"You're a lifesaver," Donald said as he dug in. 

"I know," Panchito joked with a wink. 

Donald slowly ate and drank as Panchito cooked more. Soon the smell rose José from his slumber too. Soon the Three Caballeros were seated with a healthy breakfast.

"How are you this morning?" José asked. 

"Sore.....I'm so sorry about last night guys," Donald said. José reached over and gently took his hand.

"It's okay Donal'. I know I got a little scared for you but it's okay now. We are okay. I, we, just want you to be safe and happy," José said. Panchito nodded along.

"I feel bad for getting so upset....I love my family. But they just....they make me so upset sometimes. Heck I'd...If Della and I weren't twins I'd think I was adopted. Actually geez. Sometimes I actually do think I'm adopted. Even though yes I know I'm not. But I'm just not like Scrooge and Della. We have nothing in common except maybe our bad tempers," Donald sighed. His sad distorted reflection in the glass stared back at him. 

"Remind me Donal', have you ever actually spoken with them about this?" José asked.

"All the time. I've tried for years. They don't listen to me. Which is why...well. I'm gonna move out as soon as I can. I'm gonna get that accountant job and get out," Donald strongly said.

"Is that why you were so insistent on a career that was so...secure? So you can be independent and move out as soon as possible?" Panchito asked. 

"Yeah. I mean come on I know we've only known each other for the past 4 years but these past 4 years of living at the dorms and not seeing them as often has been better. Sure they're still dragging me on adventures sometimes. Sure we still fight a lot. But...it's been better. So that's what I need to do. I need to get away. I'm not cutting them off completely. It's just more of....Love them from afar as much as possible," Donald said. It made him feel weirdly sad all over again. He was committed to the plan. It was the right thing to do. So why did it feel so wrong? 

"I...neither of us really, can tell you what the right thing to do is. But Donald, if you're not cutting them off completely then don't stop communicating," Panchito advised.

"I'll try," Donald replied.

"I propose we take today to start over. Today we celebrate and be happy! The beach is calling our names!" José cheerfully suggested. Panchito and Donald joyfully agreed. 

"Yeah. Today will be better," Donald agreed. 

"Let's go out as soon as we're done!" Panchito cried. 

* * *

The sun was warm. The water was inviting. The meals were satisfying. Music played. Laughter rang. Pictures were snapped on an aging Polaroid camera. 

The days spent at the rental in San Azul were incredible. The property was right on the beach which allowed for instant access. The weather was perfect. Their spirits were lifted. In the warmth their troubles melted away. They were filled with fresh fruits, junk food, and much healthier amounts of alcohol that didn't go overboard this time. 

Dancing went on through the day and night. Swimming and relaxing were a constant. Peace was palpable in the air and all around them. 

Through the rest of the week, good times was all to be had. No negative thoughts about missing family out of the country. No fears of cancer stealing another life. No fears for the future. No negative thoughts about Scrooge and Della. No thoughts about Scrooge and Della at all. 

Only when they finished packing up and cleaning the rental, and beginning the drive home, did they return to Donald's mind. 

He thought about everything José and Panchito said regarding honesty and communication. They were right but...ugh why did it have to be easier said than done. Easier said than said? Whatever. He wasn't really mad about them missing graduation anymore. Okay it still stung a little. But nothing that would make him scream anymore. He recovered his diploma from where it had fallen between the passenger seat and the door. It still wasn't as beautiful as it had been the moment it was handed to him. But he felt better about it now. Mostly. Maybe it wasn't too late to get a congratulations from them. Hopefully they cooled down too. 

By the afternoon Donald pulled up to McDuck Manor. His tired vehicle groaned from the weight of all his belongings and the long drive. That was another thing he needed to figure out once a good job was secured and he was moved out, a better vehicle. Still this old thing lasted this long. Hopefully it would continue to do so. 

Donald's positive mood was unaffected however. With a spring in his step he walked easily back into McDuck Manor. 

"Della? Uncle Scrooge? I'm back!" He cried joyfully. The mansion however returned only an eerie silence. Strange. Did they take off on another adventure? Donald looked around for them yet found no sign of them. Not even Duckworth was anywhere to be found. He checked out back by Della's hanger yet the Cloud Slayer was still there and Della wasn't. Really weird. He returned inside. 

Maybe they were in Scrooge's office? He hadn't looked there yet. So Donald began to walk the stairs up to it when he saw her. Della standing at the top.

"Della! I'm back! Where's Uncle Scrooge?" He asked. Okay that was weird. Why was Della looking like she'd seen a ghost? Oh no did something happen???

The wind was knocked out of him and he hit the ground with a hard thud. Weight pinned him in place. He groaned trying to figure what just happened. His eyes came to meet Della's watery ones.

"DONALD FAUNTLEROY DUCK WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?!?" She screamed. Her arms locked tighter around his middle making him gasp. Her head buried firmly into his neck.

"D-Dell...can't...breathe..." he gasped.

"Yeah that's right you can't breathe! Cause I'm gonna kill ya for scaring me like that!" She hollered although she did let him go. He gasped for air wondering what she was going on about.

"If you wanted to teach me a lesson Donald, consider it learned. Why the hell did you run away!? I know we upset you and I'm so sorry!"

"Wait, run away?" He asked.

"Yeah! You know that whenever you ran away in the past you'd scare me to death in just a few hours, but a week? I'd have rather let you hit me than have you run away like that! I drove all over town every day looking for you! Where were you!?" She cried. Della broke into sobs gripping him tightly. Her tears made a large wet spot in his black band shirt right over his heart. 

Donald was stunned for a long moment before it finally clicked. Aw FUCK. 

Between the business and emotions of getting ready for and finally graduating, Donald completely forgot to tell Scrooge and Della about his trip.

Della was still messily crying into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, gently rubbing circles into her shoulders.

"Della I'm so sorry," he said.

"Yeah! Yeah you better be! But I'm sorry too!" Her momentarily anger immediately diffusing back into sadness. 

"I didn't run away...I was on a vacation with José and Panchito...We rented a beach house," Donald slowly explained. 

"And you didn't tell me!?" She yelled.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that I didn't," he said as he hung his head. "Really I didn't do that intentionally. I'm so sorry." 

"You fucker...don't ever do that again," her growl turning to a whisper as she clung to him tightly. He tightened his grip on her. Much as he hated that he had scared her, he had to admit this was nice. Knowing she really did care meant the world to him.

"What the blases is that racket?" Came the unmistakable voice of Scrooge McDuck. From atop the stairs, their eyes met. There he stood, looking down upon him. As per usual. Della released Donald and turned to their uncle, wiping her tears.

"Uncle Scrooge! Donnie's home!" She cried. 

"I can see that lass. Had enough of yer little temper tantrum, boy? Decided to stop runnin' away and come home like the child yer acting like?" Scrooge growled angrily as he crossed his arms.

"Hey, Donnie didn't run away! He went on a vacation! He just forgot to tell us!" Della strongly countered.

"It was an accident," Donald added softer.

"Ohhhh an accident ya say? Hmmm strange. I thought we weren't in the business of forgiving accents," Scrooge huffed. Donald sighed. Clearly Scrooge was still upset. 

"Come on Uncle Scrooge, please stop that. He's back now. That's all that matters," Della pleaded. Scrooge pulled out a pocket watch from his blue frock coat then quickly stuffed it away.

"Whatever. You kids get up here. We have an adventure to partake in and we must discuss it before we go!" He huffed proudly again before headed back for his office.

Della slowly got up, helping Donald to his feet. She clung to his arm as they made their way up the stairs. She was always like that whenever he ran away as a child. For the first day or two after he'd be found and brought back, she'd be inseparable from him. And she was also fiercely defensive of him, willing to let loose the infamous Duck temper on anyone. Even Scrooge. Donald reached across his chest to put his hand over hers. She smiled and he returned it. 

Up in Scrooge's office, he "speechified" on about a lost armory to a lost civilization he was determined to recover. Duckworth would stay to watch the house of course but the three of them would be going! They'd be leaving at dawn so you kids best rest! I expect yer best! They agreed although mentally Donald groaned. 

"Della, yer dismissed. Donald. We need to talk," Scrooge surprised them by saying.

"A-Are you sure? I mean cause whatever it is I can stay-" 

"Out Della," Scrooge insisted firmly. Della began to try to protest but Donald quickly signed "It's okay, go on." Then she nodded and left.

"I told ya not to do that signing hand signals hogwash in front of me. Ya know I can't understand it and that makes me very angry," Scrooge snapped. 

"Mama and Papa taught me it," Donald replied. Scrooge momentarily froze as Donald knew he would. Reminding Scrooge of his late sister and brother in law always sent a chill up the old man's spine. For whatever reason. It was enough to make Scrooge move on thankfully. 

"So...ya graduated..." he began.

"Yeah...I did," Donald replied somewhat awkwardly.

"And ehem...how uh...how did you do?"

"Magna cum laude, top 10% in my class," Donald said, lightly puffing himself up with pride. Scrooge nodded.

"Ehem. Well uh...I guess then. Ya can have yer old room back. Fer the time being," Scrooge said.

"Um...thank you," Donald said. 

"Ehem well then uh...dismissed," Scrooge waved him away. Donald felt himself deflat but it didn't surprise him. Wordlessly he complied, leaving the office. Della was standing right outside. She took his arm immediately.

"So...what happened? Everything okay Donnie?" She asked.

"Yeah just. Uh. Scrooge is letting me move back in," he said. Her face lit up. 

"Yay! Oh Donnie I've missed you, really, you know that? I'm so happy," she said as she hugged him. He laughed a little.

"Do you maybe uh, mind helping me bring my stuff in?" He asked.

"Oh yeah sure. But just so ya know if I see any new emo stuff I'm making fun of you for it," she teased.

"Just a few new cds, a few posters...maybe some more flannels" he lightly blushed. 

"You big edgy dork. Also what are we gonna do about this mess?" Della teased as she reached up and ruffled his longish hair feathers. He stopped rocking the long bangs he wore as a pre teen in favor of much longer partially slicked back hair that nearly reached his shoulders. 

"Seriously Donald this hair is as long as mine! You literally could steal my identity!" 

"Oh as if," Donald joked in reply.

* * *

In Scrooge's office, Scrooge was buried in the map he observing. That buried temple wasn't lost for no reason after all.

"Permission to speak freely sir?" Duckworth asked.

"You may," Scrooge said not looking up. 

"Sir...you were rather cold with Master Donald." 

"Of course I was. He was acting like a child. Tempter tantrum and running off like that. Bah. The lad is 21 and acting the same he as he did at 12," Scrooge said.

"Sir, I have advised you many times that coldness will only push Donald away," Duckworth cautiously said.

"He's a man. He needs to stop acting like a child and being hung up on feelings. He's a man and he needs to act like one," Scrooge growled lowly in disapproval.

"And yet sir this same attitude you continue to push on him only results in him continuing to run away, push you away, hold you at a distance. One day you will lose him entirely if you don't warm up to him," Duckworth continued.

"I gave the lad his old room back didn't I? That shows him I care!" Scrooge insisted.

"I believe it would mean more to Master Donald if you revealed just how worried you truly were about him while he was gone. Tell him how proud you really are of his accomplishments instead of acting as if that's just expected of him. Tell him how worried you were, how you cried and couldn't sleep while he was away-" 

"Duckworth that's enough!" Scrooge suddenly snapped. His butler did as he was told, falling silent. Scrooge sighed and slumped in his chair. Exhaustion from an entire week of barely sleeping dug at him. All the more reinforcing the truth of Duckworth's words. Scrooge rubbed his eyes and cleaned his spectacles.

"I....." Scrooge began. No longer could he focus on the map. His head wondered elsewhere. Wondering why did he find it so hard to open up to Donald? Why couldn't he just congratulate him? Why couldn't he just apologize? Why couldn't he just...

"I shall be taking a break," Scrooge immediately jumped up and walked out of his office without a glance behind him. He walked towards his bedroom although the sound of laughter called to him. In the opposite direction he walked towards it. From Donald's old room. The light through the open door drew him in. He peaked through.

"How have you become an even bigger emo dork since high school?!" Della was laughing hard at the contents of the box she was digging through. Which happened to be a photo album in her hands at the moment.

"I have not! And the term is grunge," Donald protested although he was also laughing.

"Donald! You are wearing guyliner in this picture! GUY! LINER!" She laughed holding up a photo of an all black wearing Donald on a foggy day at campus with thick eyeliner over his eyelids, with a perfect grumpy scowl to match. 

"Do you have black lipstick in here too?" She laughed looking through the box.

"No! .....I don't think so..." His face went red even just saying it. 

"Oh of course you have the newest album from Tears, Scars, and Heartstrings! They're like the most awful, most edgiest band ever! See! You have evolved to even bigger edge lord since you left!" She laughed harder holding up the CD case adorned with sad imagery. 

"It's not edgy! It's being true to one's emotions! Which I have been trying to be!" Donald protested. 

"Yeah. But you still somehow make it so dorky!" She snickered.

"Takes one to know one!" He stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh you wanna go, bro???" She immediately squared up to him playfully.

"Maybe I do!" 

"Well come at me, McDork! Heir to the edgy throne of sadness! He who swims in vast pool of black tears, because he didn't buy waterproof eyeliner!" 

Scrooge watched and chuckled quietly to himself as the twins began playfully wrestling together. Oh how he missed this. Having Donald back after so long of maybe only seeing him on the occasional weekend felt like fresh life being restored to the mansion. He missed him.  
If only it wasn't so difficult to tell him that.

* * *

After returning from the adventure, Donald immediately looked into jobs. He typed his resume. He looked through the papers every day for job listings. He even looked online for jobs however this was still fairly knew, most employers still not uploading job listings there. 

Every accountant position he found he applied to. He even tried to look into similar jobs his degree would help him secure. Everything he could he applied to.

And yet he wasn't receiving any calls back. No interviews scheduled. No interest. The only interest he was gaining was the interest on he student loans. Every month the new bill arrived somehow with a much higher leap in what he owed than the last month. 

Donald was starting to feel desperate. It was so frightening to him that he couldn't find work aligned with his degree and that he was already with so much debt at just 22 years old. Scared and unsure, he dared to ask the one person who he knew would know the most about money. Scrooge of course. 

Why did he dare think Scrooge would help him? 

First of all, Scrooge was upset Donald even took out the loans in the first place. 

"Owing anyone money is the first mistake that holds ya back from riches!" 

"Well I couldn't pay out of pocket fast enough working at a fast food place!"

"Then ya should have gotten a better job!"

"That's why I was going to college!" 

Then Scrooge was upset that Donald was asking for help.

"Ya made a dumb financial decision and now ya expect me to pay yer way out. Tough luck!"

"I just need some help! I'm not asking something for nothing!"

"Well ya gonna have ta find someone else to help ya because I am not paying for your debts!"

"Will you at least give me a job in your accounting department then!?" 

"What? You?! Don't be ridiculous Donald, you don't have the experience needed to work in my company!"

"Then can you help me get it?! Please Uncle Scrooge I'm trying here!"

"Yer not trying hard enough! I became a trillionaire all on my own! If ya want to succeed in life, you best learn how to too!" 

Donald stormed out of Scrooge's office feeling ready to blow up. Immediately he raced for his room and slammed the door shut. He stuck his large headphones over his ears and began blasting the tracks on the CD in his SKIPMAN player. This was humiliating! This was frustrating! Why was everything blowing up in his face!? 

His eyes fell to the diploma standing on his bookshelf. He walked over and grabbed it. Well. That was a whole waste of time. A whole 4 years of his life. Not to mention thousands of dollars in debt. For a useless piece of paper. One that should have acted like a key to the door of new opportunities for him. Instead it wrapped around his neck and weighed him down. Sinking him lower. Once again this stupid thing hurt more than it ever felt good. His mind briefly reminded him of the pain of graduation night but he shook it off. Despite things from the past still hurting Donald more than his family, it didn't mean he was holding on unnecessarily. He tried to let go of the ones that didn't matter anymore. 

What did matter though was just how damn frustrating this whole situation was. He needed the diploma to get the job but he also needed experience to get the job. It was a catch 22 of experience vs degree, had to have the job to get the job. Who's idea was that!? 

Because of course one would hire him. Of fucking course. It was just never enough huh!? He was never good enough! There was always someone better. Of course there was. Always, always, someone better! 

This was supposed to be his path to a safe and secure future yet he didn't seem to have a chance in hell.

It had been months since he graduated, already almost November and Donald felt like he was going to lose his mind. He was back at McDucknold's working long hard hours with absolute garbage pay. The terrible minimum wage could barely keep his gas tank filled let alone chip away at the mountain of debt he was already acquired and was continuing to grow. 

He just didn't know what to do anymore. 

Then he found the answer. 

Donald didn't spend much time in the mall as the stores there were way outside his budget. José and Panchito however had a taste for a few of the stores there so he enjoyed accompanying them. Maybe when he had a little extra cash he'd swing into Hot Topic. Just for a few minutes, come out with maybe one thing. 

He didn't spend enough time in the mall to know that there was a military recruitment center located right there until he nearly walked into it. 

"Hello there! Are you looking for an exciting, fulfilling, and still well paying job? Are you looking to serve your great country?" The recruiter standing nearby asked Donald as he looked at the signs posted on the windows. Truthfully he was only just looking and reading but he didn't want to be rude.

"I uh I don't know," he answered. The recruiter clearly had difficulty understanding him, Donald could tell. However the duck in uniform still smiled and offered his hand.

"Name's LeQuack. Samuel LeQuack."

"Uhh Duck. Donald Duck," he said shaking his hand. 

"Whoo. You got a good grip there...Donald did you say?" 

"Yeah."

"So Donald. Thinking about your future are you?" Samuel asked.

"Yeah I guess," Donald shrugged.

"How old are you now?"

"22."

"22? Wonderful. You know it's not too late to get yourself on a path to greatness by joining the military!" Samuel proudly declared. Donald tugged at his collar a little shyly.

"I mean I don't know, I was only just-"

"Tell me something Donald. Do you have a dream? The military can make it happen. Do you want to find a career within any of our four branches of military? You got it. You want to go to college. We'll pay for it. You already have college debt? We'll pay it off."

"I was saying, I was only-wait. Did you say you'll pay off college debt?" Donald asked suddenly. 

"That's right! If you serve, we'll pay off your debt regardless of how much you owe," Samuel said. Donald couldn't believe his ears! This...this was it! His way out of debt! All he had to do was serve in the military! 

By the time José and Panchito left the store they were in, Donald was registered with recruiter. He wasn't officially a soldier yet but he was on the path. 

The other two Caballeros were shocked at the excitement on their third member's face. Even more shocked when he told them what he'd done. 

But there was nothing they could do. Except perhaps pray. Pray the military life didn't take their friend away from them. Not as in they didn't want him to go about the world and live his own path. But pray the military life didn't result in him receiving a military death.

* * *

"You did WHAT!?" Della's screams echoed throughout McDuck Manor that night.

"Yeah I registered. Don't worry it's not like they're shipping me out tomorrow, the process take up to a month," Donald explained.

"Uh HELLO???? Donald! Is the part about serving in the military going over your head!? You'll be away from home for at least 2 years if not more! You're gonna see battle, Donald! You might have to kill someone! Or worse you could get killed! And with your bad luck-!"

"Della, stop. It's okay. I'll be okay. I already know what I'm gonna do. I'll join the Navy! You know I love the water and being on a boat. I'm less likely to see combat. We're not at war right now so I'll be fine," Donald said. 

"Not at war now! Anything could happen in two or more years! You're still gonna be on a boat in the middle of the ocean far from home!"

"Della what other choice do I have? I have debt. I want to live my own life and I can't! I work at McDucknold's for crying out loud I can't do that for the rest of my life," Donald replied with a small groan, looking to the many burns on his hands, arms, and legs. His bad luck tendencies definitely seemed to enjoy flaring up whenever he was around hot grease. 

"Get Uncle Scrooge to help you pay your debt then!" Della cried.

"I did Della! I tried months ago! He won't do it! He's always going on about being independent and working hard and be a man! Well now I'm doing it! Without him!" Donald proudly declared. He didn't miss it however when Della's eyes began to water.

"Donnie you can't do this," she choked out. His prideful stance dropped. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbed.

"I have to Della. I have to get my life together and this is how."

"You're only thinking about money!" She cried.

"I have to! I am not rich like Scrooge! I have debt! I buy clothes from the thrift store cause it's all I can afford! I eat the cheapest food I can buy because that's all I can afford! I have to think about the money Della! I just have to serve and they'll pay off my debts and give me job finding assistance so I can get that accounting job after my service! I need a secure, debt free life! Really it's not any worse than the hundreds of adventures Scrooge has dragged us on and the dangers we've faced since we were 7! Why are you suddenly so scared?!" Donald demanded. Della slapped his hands away in her frustration. Tears fell fast from her eyes. She shot an angry look directly into his and it stung. Slowly she started to walk away from him and up the stairs. Then she stopped and looked back at him.

"At least when we adventure, we all have each other. Taking care of one another. Protecting each other. If you go...you'll be on your own," she spoke sadly and softly almost as if not to him.

"I won't be alone Della. There will be other soldiers with me," he softly counted.

"And none of them can protect you like I can. Even with their guns and canons and whatever else you guys might have. They still can't protect you the way your big sister can. Because if anyone so much as hurts a feather on my little brother's head, I'm ending them," she spoke stronger, with more conviction. Donald sighed.

"What about Gladstone and his stupid friends? What about Tommy Jenkins and all the other kids in school who picked on me? You didn't do anything then. You were popular with everyone, remember? You didn't stand up for me because you wanted to be liked. But it's okay Della. I don't need you to protect me. I stood up to them all by myself. I'm a man. I can fight my own battles. I don't need my big sister to do it for me," he said. There wasn't any anger or hostility in his voice. There was only peace. Peace with his decision. Della turned and faced him fully.

"I wasn't there for you and I should have been Donald. I should've kicked all their asses to the moon and back. I should have known when you weren't speaking to me that something was wrong. Ever since that night that I found you-" 

"No Della. You...you're not mama. It's okay. You don't have to protect me. I mean, I appreciate it. But I'm gonna do this. I'm gonna be a man. Be strong. Independent. All the things I should be. Just...just be here when I get back, okay?" Donald's eyes meeting hers, his holding strong. Hers still spilling tears. She made her way down the stairs and tightly hugged him.

"Don't you die you hear me? Or else I'm gonna fucking kill ya," her muffled voice came from his shoulder. 

"I know, I know," he chuckled. He returned the hug then let go. 

"It's gonna be okay," he promised.

"You're wrong you know...I do have to protect you. I just haven't done a very good job at it," she sighed. 

"It'll be okay," he repeated.

"...okay..." she weakly whispered. He smiled at that then headed for his room. She watched him walk away. The second his door closed she raced upstairs. The was still one other thing she had to try to keep Donald from fully committing to this military thing. He was right. She wasn't always there for him the way she should have been. No she wasn't mama but she promised mama and papa to always look out for him. How had she been so blind to him? Even after that one dreadful night, she still allowed herself to be swept up in life and forget to protect him the way she felt she should have. She understood what he was saying at least somewhat. But still. She had to at least try one last thing to protect him. 

Her hand shook as she knocked on Uncle Scrooge's office door.

From behind the door she could hear Scrooge calling her to come in. With shaking hands and trembling legs she walked in and shut the door behind her.

"Ah! Lass, what can I do for ya?" Scrooge asked, not looking up from his books. She felt unease and fear, unsure of herself. So she decided to just stick with her gut. 

"Uncle Scrooge...I really need you to pay off Donald's student loans."

"Excuse me, you what?!" Scrooge asked in pure shock.

"Look yes I know it's a lot of money but-"

"Yes it's a lot of money! And no I will not be paying for it! He shouldn't have gotten those blasted loans in the first place! You'd think I haven't taught you kids anything about money," Scrooge grumbled.

"Uncle Scrooge please. Please. He needs this so badly," Della begged.

"And I need my money! What did he put you up to this? Think that I'd say yes if it were you?" Scrooge asked suspiciously.

"No! Donald doesn't know I'm here and he'd probably be upset with me if he did. No I have to ask. Please Uncle Scrooge, you have to do it. Donald enlisted in the military today because they'll pay off his loans. But if you pay off his loans before they complete the enlistment then he can back out. No harm, no foul. Please," Della started to cry again. Completely unintentionally but whatever worked. 

"Military eh? Well...I can't say I'm thrilled but at least it's a better job than what he's doing now."

Della stared in shock. Did he really just dismiss it like it was nothing?!

"Um hello!? What part of military are you missing here Uncle Scrooge?!" She cried.

"Aw calm yerself lass. He'll be fine!" 

"It's the military! You know! Battle! War! Guns! Swords! Canons! Fights for your life!"

"Not any worse than the adventures we've been going on since the time you two were but wee children," Scrooge replied flatly. Della groaned. It was the same point Donald had made. Why was she the only one concerned!?

"Besides lass, we're not at war right now. Many soldiers never see battle. I'm sure the worst injury he'll get is perhaps some blisters on his feet."

"That could change at any time...And there are still pirates out there. They attack indiscriminately," Della argued.

"And we have faced pirates plenty of times," Scrooge countered. Her face began to feel warm and her hands tightened into fists.

"Why aren't you worried about this at all!?" She screamed. Scrooge sighed and for the first time put his pen down and looked at her.

"Lass, your brother is...well. Ehem. Not like you and me. I can see it sometimes, the fire of an adventurer is within him. But for some reason it's like it's buried. And he needs to continue to grow and be more independent. He's 22 now and directionless. Yes he got that degree but he's not doing anything with it. I think it'd be good for him to get out there. Be on his own. Adventure without us in a sense. He can't rely on us forever. And if the military pays him and also his loans then all the better," Scrooge explained.

"Why are you acting like there's an "us vs him" thing here?! We're a family! We protect each other! We stick together!" Della shouted.

"Aye that we do. But look at how the past 4 years have been. Donald has been living at those college dorms. Sure he joined us less on adventures due to schooling but when he was with us, he was doing incredible. I think he learned a good amount of independence and he'll learn even more this way. Make a man out of himself."

"Donald has always been independent! What does that even mean "be a man"? Literally, what does that mean?!" Della demanded.

"It's...you can't understand lass. It's a man thing," Scrooge sighed.

"That sounds dumb and you are being dumb," she snapped back. "If you love him you won't let him do this."

"I do love him lass. Which is why I'm letting him go. And I think you should too."

With an echoing smash the potted plant beside Scrooge shattered across the floor. Della didn't even realize she had done it until her eyes registered the dirt and debris. Her breaths came out in heavy gasps and sweat dripped down her forehead.

"Now that was just rude," Scrooge said looking at her disappointedly. 

Overwhelmed by her emotions Della raced out, slamming the door behind her. She sprinted down the hallway until she had to stop. Her gasps were heavy and her legs shook. It didn't feel like she could get enough air. Leaned against the wall for support, she tried not to cry again. Oh but how she felt so damn ANGRY and SAD. Why did Scrooge have to be so damn stingy with money? Why wasn't he worried about Donald possibly losing his life out there!? Why wasn't Donald worried!? Those two big palookas! Her fist slammed against the wall. 

Okay maybe she could still figure out a way to get around this. Maybe her and Donald could figure out a way to get him more money. Maybe if she got a better job than her bare minimum gas station one she could help. If she could just try to talk with him again. 

Further down the hallway she walked until she reached his bedroom. Right across the hallway from hers. Barely a few feet yet sometimes it seemed like miles. When he was gone at the dorms she couldn't help but hate them for ripping him away. It felt like she had a ghost next door with him gone. A longing for her twin to be home where he belonged. And now he was going to go again. And this time he might not come back. 

Della raised her fist to knock on his door when she paused at the sound of him singing. Donald...singing....she was no fan of his voice but usually if he was singing it meant he was happy. His confidence in his voice and by proxy himself was so minimal after all. Singing was like his way of telling the world it couldn't bring him down. For this moment he was happy. She could hear the shower running as he joyfully sang. Thinking back the last time she could remember hearing him sing was the last time him and José and Panchito had their last band practice. Right before graduation. Geez had it been months already? Regardless he just sounded so...so happy. The lyrics he sang were hopeful and upbeat. Definitely a departure from his more typical darker tones. 

_"I do love him lass. Which is why I'm letting him go. And I think you should too."_

She put her hand back down and walked into her room.

Della pulled a small box out of her closet and sat on her bed with a sigh. Inside with box were a ton of pictures. Many of them Donald had taken himself with a used Polaroid camera he found at the thrift store. Pictures of him and her out and about and on adventures. The few pictures she did have of her parents and their family before they died were in here too. Even a couple she and Donald snagged of Uncle Scrooge were here despite his hatred for cameras. The newer photos were more of her and her friends which she pushed aside for now. Donald hadn't been wanting to do as many pictures since high school. But there were still some newer ones. A few of Della on the soccer team. Donald in his dark colored outfits and many flannels. Della and her friends at junior prom. Donald promptly skipped that one. For senior prom they went together, well, she dragged him to it. But their photos looked really nice. High school graduation photos of course looked lovely, the two of them smiling huge. The newest picture she had of the two of them was from 4 years ago. She had just bought the Cloud Slayer! Her very own plane! Gosh had it been 4 years already? 

After some time of reminiscing, Della carefully put all the precious photos away. She laid back on her bed and sighed. It was still painful to accept. She didn't want to accept. But it's not like she could stop him anyway. Tears began to come again and she didn't hold back this time. As she cried she made a mental note to take more pictures before he left. 

She was going to miss him so much.

* * *

It didn't take long, surprisingly, for Donald to become fully enlisted. He had a few meetings with Samuel the recruiter and some other again. They all went over his record, his transcripts. He was given a thorough medical examination. He was even given a lengthy psychological examination. Finally about 3 weeks after signing up, Donald Fauntleroy Duck was now a US Navy soldier.

The last night home drew many emotions. Della snatched his camera and wouldn't stop taking photos. Duckworth prepared a special dinner and dessert for his last night. Even Scrooge seemed more emotional than normal but that might have just been wishful thinking.

"Dellaaaa stoooop," he groaned as Della took another picture up close to his face. 

"Aw come on Donnie you're leaving! I have to get some good ones! Hard as that is with your face," She teased.

"We have the same face Dumbella. Besides you're moving too much. It'll make the picture blurry."

"Oh...that's why these aren't turning out then." 

"Come on I'll show you how to do it," Donald said.

"I want one with you and me," Della said.

"Alright now look right there...hold it...3, 2, 1, cheeeeese," Donald took the picture of him and Della holding each other in a side hug. After some moments the picture revealed from the camera. It was perfectly in focus and angled perfectly on them.

"How do you do that!? You can't see what you're looking at, how'd you get that so perfectly!?" Della cried in amazement. 

"Plenty of practice," Donald chuckled. 

"Ah they're gonna make you shave your head you know. Goodbye to this long mess," Della teased again.

"Aw come on there were plenty of guys with hair longer than mine on campus."

"And I bet they were an even worse mess."

"Ehem. Am I interrupting anything?" Scrooge asked from the doorway.

Donald looked up from his bag he was packing and Della looked up too. 

"Uh...no Scrooge. Just finishing packing. Almost done..." Donald said.

"Good, good. Ah. Della? Give us a moment will ya? Perhaps check in with Duckworth see how that dinner is coming along?" Scrooge suggested in a way that made it clear it wasn't a suggestion. Della shifted nervously but complied. She stopped in the doorway but Donald's nod eased her and she left. For some long moments after she left, Scrooge was silent. His eyes were bouncing around the room. Looking everywhere but at Donald. Then he sighed and closed them.

"So! Off to the navy yard tomorrow with ya then?" Scrooge asked with sudden enthusiasm. 

"Uh...yeah. I leave early. I have to be there by 6 am," Donald replied, feeling thrown off by Scrooge's attitude. 

"Ah yes yes. After all, early to bed, early to rise. Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. All good things to be. Especially wealthy," Scrooge chuckled. It didn't escape his notice how uncomfortable Donald looked. He softly sighed. 

"So...yer enlistment! Yer gone for 3 years?"

"4 years," Donald replied flatly.

"Ah. Ehem uh. Well ya won't be gone the whole time. Right?" 

"No. No we're uh. We'll be gone for months at a time for sure but I'll be back 2 to maybe 4 times in a year. Although I don't know for how long," Donald answered. "No guarantees on any of that though."

"Oh no of course not. There are no guarantees in life. Well except death and taxes. And I have to do my best to minimize the taxes," Scrooge said with a laugh at another bad money joke of his. He noticed Donald sigh. Hmm. Well. Scrooge sighed as well. He wasn't getting his point across. Why did talking to Donald feel so hard? Why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say?

"Well. Ehem. Donald I. I wanted to say to you. Um..." 

This was going nowhere and fast. This was not how he wanted Donald to remember his last night home. Screwing his eyes shut and acting on his gut, Scrooge reached out and hugged Donald. He could feel Donald tense up initially. Then slowly Donald's arms wrapped around him too. Yes. This. This was better. Scrooge kept his eyes closed. For a long moment, maybe, who knows, the two held their embrace. Then Scrooge abruptly ended it by pulling away. He coughed into his hand a few times.

"Well then I ehem I yes. I what I mean to say to you Donald is um well...Congratulations," Scrooge quickly stated with an outstretched arm. Donald appeared quite shocked by the change. He did still shake Scrooge's hand with a strong grip. It pained Scrooge that he reacted like that. Why did he pull away like that? In his wondering he missed the disappointment in Donald's eyes.

"Hey you two big palookas! Get your tails down here! Food's ready! Don't you dare insult Duckworth by being late!" Della's shout came from down below. The two exchanged awkward glances.

"Well we best get going," Donald muttered.

"Yes you're right. Uh. Yes. Yes we should." 

Donald side stepped around Scrooge and slowly moved to the door. Before he could step out however Scrooge placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Donald...remember to write often, alright? As often as you can. You know your sister will miss you so much. It uh. It won't be the same without ya here. So...write often," Scrooge said, sadness leaking out of his voice. Donald gave him a soft smile.

"I will Uncle Scrooge. I promise." With that, Donald turned and headed downstairs. Scrooge released the tension in his chest as a heavy sigh. Why were words so difficult? He was Scrooge McDuck for duck's sake! He's faced countless dangers! Expressing his feelings should be so simple! Yet even just now that little bit of...vulnerability felt like an impossible peak to summit. Which he now had yet it still wasn't enough. Did Donald know? He had to know...right? Know how much he truly cared, even though it was hard for him to express it? Surely Donald understood that when he said " _your sister will miss you so much_ " that he meant he would too...Right?

Over the grand dinner Duckworth had graciously made, Donald felt the happiest he had in months. For the first time in so long he felt like he had a plan again. A purpose. Everyone had given him affection and validation. Yes even Scrooge in his weird stand offish old man way. But Donald would take what he could get. Everyone was laughing and eating merrily. It almost couldn't get better than this. Especially not with his bad luck. 

Tomorrow would begin a time for Donald that would prove to be long, difficult, and dangerous. Tonight, he was celebrating and happy.

**November 18th, 2003**

In the fog and dark and cold of the early morning, Donald Duck quietly crept out the manor and put his duffle bag into the trunk of his car. When he closed it he saw Della standing there, clutching her robe close and shaking. 

"Go back inside silly, it's cold," Donald lightly teased.

"No shit Sherlock it's cold but if you think I'm gonna let you leave without saying goodbye-" she gritted through her chattering teeth. Donald chuckled a little and wrapped her tightly into his hug. She held him back even tighter. The wind insisted on picking up which made them both shiver. The sting of the wind nearly pushed her to cry but she was trying so hard to not to. Instead she clung tighter. He groaned a little bit in protest.

"Tough luck tough guy. It's the last hug you're getting for a while," she choked out. Nope. She couldn't resist anymore. Tears fell. A drop on her face made her look up. Donald had tears in his eyes too. She smiled sadly. 

"I'll write you as much as I can so be on look out for my letters okay? And you write me too. I wanna know what adventures you two get up to and all," he said. She nodded. He managed to tighten his grip on her too causing her to groan as well.

"Take care of yourself Della. And Uncle Scrooge too. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone," he said as he eased up on his tight hug. Della nodded as she wiped her tears. 

"I'll try...you stay out of trouble too though, you hear? Because I mean it Donald. If you die, I'm gonna kill ya." 

"I won't die Della. I promise. Although I think I'm going to have to break our promise to never spend another Christmas apart," he added sadly. Della's hand rested gently on his face. 

"So keep your promise to not die then, okay? Even if we have to spend 10 Christmases apart it'd be worth it as long as you're alive," she said with a soft smile.

"Okay. I won't die. I promise," he vowed.

"I won't die. I promise," she repeated. 

"I...I have to get going," he said. She sighed and pulled him closer for one more good hug. He held her closer too.

"Wait do you want me to go wake Uncle Scrooge really fast? I can go get him."

"No just let him sleep. We said our goodbyes last night. But uh...give him another hug for me," Donald said. Della nodded. Slowly Donald pulled away and got in his car. The poor old engine again protested to start but it fired up. The headlights lit up like tired yellow eyes. 

"Okay...I guess it's time then...Goodbye Donald," Della said.

"Goodbye Della. I love you," he said, performing the sign with his hands as he spoke.

"I love you too," she repeated also doing the signs. Smile met smile, warm eyes met warm eyes, for the last time for many months as Donald got into his car and drove away.

From a window high above Scrooge McDuck watched the events play out. His eyes were tired and heavy but his mind just wouldn't let him sleep. Not until he watched Donald leave. He could have gone down and said goodbye. He should have. Instead he thought it be for the best to not get involved. Last night things ended on a good note between them, with Donald and Scrooge saying goodnight and goodbye. He didn't want to risk taking that away from Donald. Because he was a foolish man who couldn't be very true with his emotions. No he had to do the right thing and make it as easy as possible for Donald to leave. It was for the best. 

Even if....he'd miss him.  
Even if he'd worry about him. 

.....

...This was for the best.

It had only been about a month prior that he advised Della to let him go. Out of love, let him go. The words seemed far eerier and haunting this morning as he watched Donald's headlights fade into the distant darkness and fog. The regret began to build in his chest. Oh curse his kilts. Curse everything! Why did he have to be such a fool? He stood there alone in the dark clinging to a foolish hope. Hope that Donald would turn right back around and come back. And never try to leave again. Why oh why did he have to be like this? He should have given Donald the job he wanted. He should have just paid those stupid loans. He should have just paid for his education in the first place! He should have! He should have...

He should never have let his son go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I materialize before everyone as that one meme where a poorly drawn character kicks upon the door screaming HOLY FUCK! because, dear readers, HOLY FUUUUUUCK I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS CHAPTER WAS SO HARD AND TOOK A MONTH AND A HALF TO WRITE I'M SO SORRY!!!! 
> 
> Oh my gosh this chapter just what even. This one gave me so many unexpected troubles. Everything I wrote just felt so CRINGY and awful and bad!!! I kept rewriting, trying different scenarios, changing things, but HECK. This one just oof it really wanted to play with me I guess or something. 
> 
> I did originally intend to take this chapter further into Donald's first few days/weeks as a Navy soldier. With it I'd be finally introducing y'all to an important OC that I love and am very excited to bring before ye, however I just kinda finally accepted that this is good enough. Gonna call it done here. So! Next time! We'll take a trip out onto the seas with Donald! (Also please note it's not going to be completely accurate to the IRL Military so please don't take off my head for it)
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as I said it really just ugh wasn't wanting to work. The first half and Donald's whole little very tipsy/borderline drunk part especially just kept feeling like ahhhhhh this is CRINGY. So apologies if it is. 😅 I just really wanted a chance to have Donald being really upset and show José and Panchito as the good bros they are. A little bit of letting loose is good and all but gotta keep each other safe and not let it become a habit. 
> 
> Also the songs Donald is jamming to are Say It Ain't So by Weezer and Going Under by Evanescence. Because Donald "gotta eat the rich uncle" Duck is a grunge king. I stan. 🖤
> 
> Thank you everyone so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave me kudos and comments if you did because I am hella weak and absolutely NEED VALIDATION. Even a small comment is a huge fuel to my fire please thank you 😔🥺💙 
> 
> Endless thanks again to Alyssa and Cass my betas for your patience with me and for your time and help. Additional thanks to friend Raven for your support and helping me get my ducks a little more in a row 😅💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙 So much appreciation out to you 3.
> 
> If you want to keep up with me sooner I'm on tumblr @ tomb-bloom-noctem. I post whatever I want though so the blog might be a little messy whoops 😅 But I promise I post (well mostly reblog) a lot of Ducktales content! Until next time, which will hopefully not be a month and a half later! 😂😭


	4. Trying to Remember the Good Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald brings up a memory of a happy Christmas from his childhood and wonders why it's so hard for him to remember the good times. And what does this mean for the future?

"Donald, you've been very open with me so far in our sessions. But I think it's time we go further back into your past," Dr. Shell began one session. Donald tugged at his shirt a little. Why did that make him feel so scared? 

"Um...like, like what?" He asked.

"I want to go back into your childhood. There's a lot there we have to cover. But there is one thing in particular we have to work on. Specifically, I want to cover the death of your parents."

Donald shot upright, his fists tightened. Then his shoulders slumped and he broke eye contact with his psychiatrist. 

"I uh....no," Donald quietly protested.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Shell asked.

"I...no. No I'm...I'm not ready..." he confessed. He buried his face into his hands, his fingers tightly gripping his face. Shaking and chills went up and down his spine. His ears could hear the scratch of pen on paper. But he stayed hunched over and "hidden." 

"Donald, I don't want to cause you distress and force you to talk about things that are painful. But obviously their passing is still traumatic for you. At some point during your month here, we need to discuss it. But I won't make you do so today. Okay?" Dr. Shell softly said. Donald nodded. Pain pricked at his eyes. Geez it was early in the morning and he already felt like crying. 

"Thank you," he quietly said back. 

"Is there anything you do want to talk about today?" 

"Um...Actually...yeah," Donald said. Dr. Shell looked surprised but pleased. 

"Alright, what would you like to talk about?" He asked his patient.

"I uh. I had a dream last night. About Christmas of all things. I don't know itvwas just some weird dream. But it um. Well. It reminded me of Christmas as a kid. Um specifically Christmas when I was 8...that was a really good Christmas. I haven't thought about that in years," Donald explained.

"Alright, would you like to talk about that Christmas?" Dr. Shell asked.

"Yeah. I know it's weird but I have a point in asking." 

"Alright. So tell me about it and then we'll work from there."

* * *

December in McDuck Manor was a strange time. Donald would have always guessed it to be the most magical place to be during the season. But after he and Della came to live with Scrooge, he learned very quickly that this was not true. Sure it still looked magical. Duckworth set up a beautiful display including a giant tree! But this was all for show. For Christmas parties. For his company. Boring, adult Christmas parties. The true atmosphere in McDuck Manor was actually quite bleak. It looked the part didn't have the spirit. Empty. Hollow. Meaningless.

It was almost their 3rd Christmas with Uncle Scrooge now. Donald and Della were 8 years old. And Donald was dreading it. 

For one, Scrooge was frugal as phooey. And since Santa was strictly forbidden, they were responsible for their own gifts. It made it hard to find anything to buy. And secondly, Donald found it hard to buy anything for Della and Scrooge. Thank heavens for Duckworth. Duckworth was a massive help at the holidays. 

Della was always overjoyed at Christmas time. She loved the giving and receiving of gifts. She loved setting the Christmas traps and being on the hunt for Santa. She even loved helping Duckworth with the decorating and baking even if she was limited help. And Donald loved that too, aside from the Christmas traps, which tended to trigger on him and result in him getting stuck or injured. Or hunting for Santa. He really wasn't a fan of that. Who could hate someone who gives free gifts? Lame old Uncle Scrooge that's who. 

But Christmas was also hard due to the memories it brought with it. Duckworth could make an amazing hot chocolate but it wasn't the same as mama's. Sitting in the chairs in front of the fireplace was comforting but it wasn't the same as back in their old house. Especially since Uncle Scrooge wouldn't hold them the way papa would. He missed the sound of papa's train set chugging along by the tree trunk. He missed the ornaments and decorations they used to put up. All of Scrooge's decorations were perfect, brand new looking. Most of their old decorations had been aged and damaged here and there but they were theirs. It was home. He missed singing carols with his family without the judgement Scrooge gave him. He missed the way Christmas was joyous in the very air all around them in the old house. He missed his parents.

Donald sighed. What was wrong with him? Why did he have to be like this? He loved Christmas! And yet he was being like this. It was the most wonderful time of the year and here he was. Sitting on the windowsill, alone, and feeling sad. Why couldn't he just be happy like everyone else? Why did he have to focus on the bad? 

Frustration with himself bubbled in his chest. There was 10 days left till Christmas and he still didn't have anything for Della. Thanks to Duckworth's help, Donald had bought Scrooge a box of that tea he likes. And for Duckworth, Donald had managed to get a box of cookies that he knew the butler enjoyed with his tea. But Della? Still a mystery. 

Every year when they wrote letters to Santa back then, mama always made him and Della include a wish for the other members of the family. She felt it was an important way to show love for the rest of the family. Even if that gift didn't arrive, it meant you were thinking of more than just yourself and your wants. And papa encouraged this practice greatly too. Christmas was about family.

Donald got up and decided to do something he knew was pointless but he was going to do it anyway. Write a letter to Santa. Even if he could get it to the post office, it's not like Santa would actually follow through on this thanks to the traps. But at least it might help him brainstorm. So he grabbed a pencil and paper and started to write.

"Dear Santa, it's me Donald Duck. I don't even know if I'm on the nice list this year. I know I pulled some pranks at school on the kids who bullied me. I lose my temper all the time. So I understand if I'm too bad for the nice list. But if I'm not, this is my wishlist for this year. 

1\. I wish for a new voice. My voice sounds really bad and it hurts a lot. There's a surgery that can fix my voice and I really want it. I've been asking for it for years now because mama and papa were gonna take me to get it but it didn't happen. Everyone hates how I sound and they make fun of me for it. I really really really want a new voice."

Donald paused, trying to think if there was anything else. His lists used to be long, filled with many wishes. In these last years, it was getting harder to think of things. Maybe it was cause he knew he wasn't going to get much. Maybe it was because it felt like nothing felt right before. Geez. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be like the other kids? Where was his spirit? 

It died that night. In the car with mama and papa.

"Ahh!" Donald yelped as that thought flashed across his mind. Too dark! Where the heck had that thought come from!? Oh quackaroonie, what was going on? He was 8 years old and losing his mind. Cold hands rubbed his warm temples. Maybe he was just tired. Or hungry. Or both. Who knows. Too late to take a nap. Hopefully Duckworth would have dinner ready soon. Maybe he should try to go to bed early tonight. Sleep was evasive with Donald after all. Tonight he should catch up on it. But until then he'd pass the time working on this Christmas letter.

There was something he wanted. But he knew he couldn't ask for it. He had asked for it last year and the year before that. And Scrooge scowled him for it. But other than to have a new voice, it was the only thing he really wanted. For his parents to come back.

A neat number 2 was written on the paper. But he froze. There was no point in asking. He knew there wasn't. He was a kid but not stupid. Maybe a little stupid. But that that stupid. They were gone. Not Santa. Not Scrooge. Not no one could bring them back. 

"2. Some new guitar strings. The ones on my guitar are getting very old and don't sound as good anymore."

There. It wasn't asking for them to come back. It was a more reasonable request. Still. Guitar strings paled in comparison to having his parents back and a new voice. Donald began a new sentence right away underneath before he became tempted to add that wish in again.

"Just as mama and papa always wanted and made us do every year, I have some wishes for everyone else in the family too. 

3\. For Duckworth I wish he could have the vacation he wants. He talks about going back to Britain for a visit so I hope he can go. 

4\. For Della I wish for her to have..."

Donald had to pause still not fully sure what to request for his sister. Unlike him, Santa could give Della anything! And yet he was drawing a blank. Great. What did he ask for Della last year? What did she even get last year? 

He got up from his desk and paced. Okay so technically he could just ask for anything no matter how outlandish since it wouldn't come true anyway. But ever since mama and papa passed, he just felt it was more important than he used to. To be considerate and think of something really special to ask for. And sadly he just really didn't know. Della seemed to have everything she wanted. He couldn't remember her mentioning anything that she needed or wanted except the occasional request for pizza. Could Santa deliver pizza? How would that work, do the elves make pizza in their workshops? Do they even know what pizza is? Donald shook his head. Getting way off topic.

And so Donald thought.

And thought.

And he thought some more. 

All this thinking started to make his head sore. And just as he felt ready to give up, an idea came to mind. A certain book he remembered seeing at the bookstore popped back up in his mind. Della would love it. He couldn't afford it himself but it was a perfect gift to ask Santa to bring her. And it gave Donald an idea of what he could actually bring her. 

So he sat back down and wrote his wish for her. And then his wish for Uncle Scrooge. Oh yeah. This was great. 

Actually...he should try to mail this. Scrooge be phooeyed. 

Well it never worked in the past. He had tried to secretly mail the letters he wrote last year and the year before, only to get busted. Scrooge had taken the letters. And criticized his wishes. Calling them foolish, outlandish, and not practical. Whatever. Pain ached at Donald's throat. It made him sigh in frustration. Why'd he have to be like this? Why couldn't his voice just be normal? Why did it have to sound so awful and cause such pain? Maybe he needed some more tea. 

Donald slipped out of his room quietly. It was still early evening. If he was careful, he might be able to get an envelope and stamp without Scrooge knowing. The delicious scent of Duckworth's cooking wafted up the stairs, making his stomach growl. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! He couldn't quite tell what the smell was but it smelled so good! Maybe Duckworth was trying one of his more unique recipes again! Exciting! Maybe he should ask Duckworth to teach him how to cook. He's helped in the kitchen before and he loved it but one day he wanted to be a great cook like Duckworth! (Potential job? Chef? Restaurant owner? No... Uncle Scrooge would just tell him off for getting a "service industry" job)

In his thinkings, Donald didn't pay attention to where he was going. Leading him to walk right into Uncle Scrooge. Stealth mission failed. 

Donald fell back with a hard thud and groaned.

"Lad! Watch where you're going!" Scrooge cried. 

"Sorry Uncle Scrooge," Donald apologized. He pushed himself upright. Ugh wait something was missing. Oh shoot! Donald jumped to his feet! Where'd the letter go!? Immediately he looked left and right for the paper.

"Looking for this?" Scrooge dryly asked. Donald swallowed nervously as he turned back around to face his uncle. Standing there, tall and proud as ever, with a disapproving look on his face, was Scrooge. With Donald's Christmas letter in hand. Aw phooey. Busted for the 3rd year in a row. 

Scrooge read through Donald's letter before crumpling it and shoving it into the pocket of his blue frock coat. 

"I told you, no writing letters to Santa! That holiday horror show hosting, horrendous and horrifying ho ho ho-ing hooligan is not to set foot nor hoof here! He knows what he did!"

"Well I don't and I don't care! Christmas is about more than just you, you know!" Donald protested. Scratchy pain ached at his throat from the use. It made him cough and groan.

"And again with the voice! You cannot ask for a new voice!" Scrooge continued.

"Why not!? You don't know what it'd like to have mine!" Donald coughed out.

"I've been made fun of for my voice for years! It builds character!" 

"Yours doesn't hurt all the time! Yours isn't breaking down! I'll be mute someday!" Donald protested.

"Hogwash. A fear tactic spread by the doctors to scare ya into handing over ya money," Scrooge brushed the comment off.

"As for guitar strings, no. You don't need those either," Scrooge added.

"Why do you hate me so much!? Why is it you hate everything I love and do!? Why do you hide from me all the time, especially on Christmas!? What did I ever do to you?!" Donald screamed loudly and ran back to his room slamming the door. It shocked Scrooge into stunned silence. Oh great. Scrooge, what did you do now...why was he so bad with children? 

Donald flopped onto his bed, tears falling and pain wrecking his throat. But despite how crying made it worse, he sobbed. Stupid voice! Stupid Scrooge! Stupid life!! Why him!? Why! Why did this have to happen at all!? He buried himself into his blankets and cried into his pillow, hard. Everything just made him so mad and sad. Why did it all have to be like this? Why couldn't he be normal? Why couldn't he have a normal voice? Why couldn't Scrooge love him? 

At least he had cried it all out before Della knocked on his door, letting him know dinner was ready. Quietly he followed her downstairs and quietly he remained for most of dinner. Pain was throbbing in his throat pretty badly now. But the warm food helped a little. And the water helped his throat and dry red eyes.

"Donald? Are you okay?" Della asked.

"Mm fine," he said. It was just him and Della. Duckworth had taken Scrooge his dinner up in his office and hadn't come back yet. But he didn't want to talk about it. He loved Della but sometimes she didn't get it. And sometimes she did but he didn't want to open up. Like right now. Staring down at his plate Donald missed Della eyeing him suspiciously.

Attempting to distract himself from his negative thoughts, Donald mentally reminded himself he needed to ask Duckworth to take him back to the store tomorrow. His only gift idea for Della seemed dumb now but it was the only one he had.

* * *

A knock pulled Scrooge out of the words he was reading back into reality. He called for entrance and in came Duckworth with his dinner. 

"Mmm smells delicious as ever Duckworth, thank you," he said.

"My pleasure sir," the butler replied. The crumpled letter on his employer's desk caught his eye.

"Ah, preparing for your next adventure sir?" He asked with a gesture to the letter. Scrooge looked back down with a frown.

"Oh this? No this is not for an adventure...it's...Donald wrote another Christmas wish list this year," he replied quietly. Duckworth nodded, unsure though as to why his boss seemed so weary rather than angry. Scrooge soon answered that unasked question. 

"I don't understand why he bothers doing it every year. I have specifically forbidden it."

"He's a child sir. And it was a tradition for your sister's family," Duckworth replied. Scrooge buried his face into his hands for a long moment.

"I...I'm not mad that he wrote it. I'm just...I'm upset by what he wrote," he finally admitted after a long pause. 

"It's the same thing he's asked for every year...he wants a new voice. He wants the surgery. And I can't give it to him. I confronted him when I took the letter but...obviously I did something wrong. The lad thinks I hate him," Scrooge sighed and stood up from his chair. Slow steps moved him towards the window. He stared out but also into his own reflection. 

"You could try telling him the truth sir. He thinks you don't want to give him the surgery for personal reasons," Duckworth said.

"He's 8, Duckworth. How on earth can I possibly explain it to him?" Scrooge lamented.

"Both of them are incredibly intelligent and mature for their age. I'm sure if you explained it simply Donald would understand. Also I'm sure it would go better than what you already did since you managed to make him think you hate him," his butler countered.

"Duckworth I just don't know what to do.....I'm the richest duck in the world. I could hire the greatest doctors ever...and even then they can't guarantee he would be safe. The risk is there and it's incredibly high. If he gets the surgery he could lose his voice entirely..." Scrooge groaned as he allowed himself to fall forward some, leaning his head against the cool glass pane. 

"Donald's voice is getting worse and it'll get worse as he gets older and he'll probably lose it entirely someday. But if I take the risk and cause him to lose his voice entirely instead of fixing it...oh Duckworth I don't know what to do," He sighed. 

"I'm afraid this is something I cannot help much in sir," Duckworth admitted. "But. I'd probably tell him the truth to your decision making. As the guardian this is something you would have to decide. But someday Donald will be an adult. He may get the surgery for himself then. He wants the surgery but there are risks. Explain this to him. Let him know you're not denying him to out of hate but out of love, for you're worried about the risks. Perhaps even you could do as your sister had in preparation for getting him the surgery learn how to do sign language. Hortense taught the whole house how to use it. If you do that at least then maybe you can go throughwith the surgery and if something went wrong-"

"No I can't. I can't get him the surgery. It's not about the cost. I just...can't take his voice. I can't risk him like that....what kind of a monster would I be if I silenced him? Even if we all knew sign language, Donald would still be robbed. Because of me. I can't risk it." Scrooge pulled himself away from the window. A feeling of sadness was all over him. He glanced upward, towards the heavens. _Is this what you and Quackmore went through? Is this how it felt? Like your heart was being torn in two?_

"Am I bad guardian?" Scrooge suddenly asked. The question took Duckworth completely by surprise, leaving him in stunned silence. A heavy sigh left Scrooge, taking the silence as a yes.

"I...I don't get these kids. Well...I don't get him. Della is so much like me ya'd think she's mine. Donald I don't understand and can't connect with him. He thinks I hate him and it's not true! I just...I just don't get him..."

The crumpled Christmas letter on his desk was picked back up in Scrooge's hand. 

"For Uncle Scrooge I wish for him to have a new heart. I think there's something wrong with his heart just like there is something wrong with my voice. He's mean and grumpy all the time. I think the love in his heart is broken. I hope he gets a new one so he can love again."

It hurt to read that. It made Scrooge's heart skip a beat and his throat run dry. 

"Children can be imaginative and say things that hurt in ways we're never ready for. The fact that it does hurt-"

"Duckworth, please," Scrooge put his hand up. His butler stopped speaking. Slowly Scrooge sank back down into his chair.

"At least this year he didn't ask for Santa to bring his parents back to life...that is one wish no one can fulfill. Not even I. And yet I'm doing a garbage job as a guardian as well....He's right. I don't...I don't know how to be a good guardian. I never wanted children. And now here I am with 2 of them and I barely know how to take care of them. I hide from them as often as I can. I get frustratedwith them easily...I just...I don't even know," Scrooge admitted. 

"I think...I think all parents go through this. All parents. All guardians. It's not something you just know how to do. It's a process. You have to apply yourself. Learn how to meet his needs. And Della's too. Just because she's like you doesn't mean she is you. You have to be more open to communicating with them and learn who they are. Spend more time with them. Learn from them. Children are surprisingly good teachers...you can do it sir," Duckworth softly encouraged. Scrooge looked kindly at his butler. 

"You always have such good advice and knowledge Duckworth. How do ya do it?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Us Brits have our ways sir," Duckworth lightly gloated.

"Yeah ya do. Yer way of LOSING! HA!" Scrooge strongly fired back causing the two to laugh. 

* * *

Donald and Della cleaned their dishes after dinner and went their separate ways. He found himself lonely and pacing the hallways aimlessly. His fingers brushed through his growing bangs. _Snap out of it snap out of it snap out of it. Stop being so sad!_

He caught his reflection in the window and groaned at the sight of himself. He was wearing a wrinkled blue shirt with an equally wrinkly blue flannel over it. Oh joy. Why was he such a mess? His bangs were growing in on the left side of his face. He had scars hiding just underneath his feathers that still felt so visible. Scars on his face and arms from the car crash. Scars from injuries gained on the adventures so far. Screams filled his ears and rattled his brain. Sadness washed over him and made him shake. _Come on Donald!!! Snap out of it!!_

"Donnie?" 

He jumped and fell back. 

"Oh come on silly what you do that for?" Della laughed. Snapping out of his shock, Donald saw Della standing there with two large mugs in her hands.

"I made hot chocolate! Come on Donnie come sit with me!" Della happily said. He got up and followed her to the TV room. As he sat beside her, she handed him one of the mugs. 

"I had Duckworth show me how to make it! Do you like it?" She asked. He sipped the warm drink and smiled.

"It's really good. Thanks Della," he said. 

"You're welcome," she smiled but it fell into a frown after. 

"It's not as good as mama's though. Don't now how she did it but it was so good."

"Yeah...mama magic," Donald commented. Della nodded. She sipped her cup, taking his hand with her other one.

"Do you still write letters to Santa? Even though we can't mail them?" He asked.

"Yeah. Just for fun really. I don't try to mail them or anything but it gives me ideas of what to get everyone. Also somehow maybe Santa will still get the message that for Uncle Scrooge's gift I ask that Santa kindly surrender so I can give Uncle Scrooge his head on a platter," Della strongly stated.

"Oh geez Della," Donald said.

"Okay maybe I leave out the head on the platter part..." she chuckled.

"I still write them but every year Uncle Scrooge manages to find them and bust me with them. Ugh. And no he doesn't care for it at all. No surprise," he shrugs.

Silence fell easily between them again. The two drank slowly from their cups. Della seemed to want to say something but she was silent. Finally she cleared her throat and spoke up.

"Hey Donnie...I know you've been kinda...kinda sad. Every Christmas ever since....uh... ever since they died. But you wanna know a secret? I have been too," she softly confessed. Donald almost choked when she said that. After clearing his throat he coughed out "really?" And Della nodded slowly.

"I love Uncle Scrooge and Duckworth and our Christmases here. I know I might seem like I'm not missing them. But I do. It's not as bad as it used to be. But I do still miss them. It's okay if you're still sad..." she said quietly.

"How'd you know?" He asked. 

"You're my twin. I know you. Also you've been doing the sad sighs all month. Took me a bit to see it was all. I'm sorry I'm not the most observant sometimes," she apologized.

"You're very observant! Like when you saw that 3rd trap in the temple we were in last month? Even Uncle Scrooge didn't see it, about took his head off!" Donald said.

"Yeah but reading temples is different from reading people. I'm gonna try to do better about knowing how you're feeling and look out for ya," Della said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Della. I'll try not to hide my feelings so much in the future. I just...I feel bad. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time and I'm being sad. I don't want to ruin Christmas for you," he admitted. 

"It's okay to be sad at Christmas Donald. I just wanna take care of you better. Make it better if I can," Della sighed.

"It's okay Della," he said. The two sipped their cocoa quietly. Truthfully he was beginning to feel better already. He felt less lonely already.

"Also uh...Christmas might be a little lame this year. I'm sorry. I have an idea of what I'm going to get you finally but it's probably not great. I'm sorry," Donald quietly apologized. 

"Remember what papa always said? It's about the quality of the love in your heart not the quality of the gift," Della quoted.

"Yeah but it'd be nice to be able to give better quality gift to show my love. But I don't have enough money to do that," he sighed.

"Yeah. Same," she nodded. 

"Look, as long as we have each other, we'll make Christmas the greatest. Okay?" Della said proudly. It sparked something joyful in Donald to hear that..

"Okay!" He cried as he jumped up! Unfortunately cocoa spilled all over his shirt when he did causing him to groan at the mess. Della laughed and laughed. He chuckled a little sheepishly in embarrassment. But at least he and Della were both feeling a little bit happier now. 

**December 25th, 1989**

"Donnie Donnie Donnie!! Wake up!!!" Excited screams from Della came with heavy pounds came from outside his door. Donald immediately shot upright and jumped to join Della. As he opened the door, he was hit with something falling all around him. He let out a small yelp in surprise but he realized quickly it was just confetti. Della tossed more above his head.

"Yay!!! Merry Christmas Donald!" She shouted. Her arms tightly pulled him into a great big hug that made his back crack.

"Aagh, Merry Christmas Della," he groaned out of his squished diaphragm. She let him go and he wheezed. 

"Come on! Let's go!" She grabbed him by the hand and ran! His surprise yell filled the air with her shriek of excitement! Then she came to a screeching halt, Donald flopping to the ground with a thud. Her eyes grew wide and shined with wonder looking at the tree. Donald picked himself up from the ground and his eyes matched Della's. The lights were on, glowing brightly against the gray of the early morning hour. Everything seemed to sparkle with an extra flare of magic that it hadn't had all month! The fireplace was lit with a warm fire that crackled happily. Something in the air smelled just a hint sugary sweet without being overpowering. And under the tree was a lot of presents! Everything felt incredibly magical!

"Good morning kids," came the Scottish voice behind them. They turned around surprised to see Uncle Scrooge standing there behind them. Like them, Scrooge was still in his pajamas, holding a cup of tea in his hands. He seemed so relaxed and happy. Donald pinched himself, feeling sure that this had to be a dream. 

"Good morning Uncle Scrooge," they replied.

"Merry Christmas kids," Scrooge said stepping closer, pulling the two into a hug although being careful of his tea. The twins hugged him back, feeling warm and cheerful. But Donald was the first to pull away.

"Hey wait a second, what's the big idea here? Mister I hate Christmas is suddenly being very nice..." Donald commented suspiciously. Scrooge sipped his tea before commenting. 

"I've been doing some thinking and well, I...I decided instead of yet another company party on Christmas or spending the day and night with the spirits, I thought I should spend it with my family instead," he said, smiling big and warmly at them. Donald and Della's eyes lit up. 

"You really mean it Uncle Scrooge!? You're gonna spend the whole day with us!?" Della shouted.

"Yes lass, I will," he replied.

"Yay!!!" Della cheered throwing her arms up in the air.

"I have a lot to learn still kids...I've never had children of my own. And I've spent so long on my own-"

"Heh. Cause you're old," Della snickered.

"Experienced. Ehem. Anyway. I uh. I need to learn how to be more than just your adventuring guardian. Be there more often for you two. And learn to understand you kids better. Both of you," Scrooge said, looking at Donald for emphasize. Donald's eyes lit up more. 

"Family is nothing but trouble...but I think we can make some good trouble. Even outside of adventures. What do ya say family?!" 

Joyous cheers rose! It made Donald and Della feel so happy to hear him say that. 

"We'll have to start incorporating more together time. Ah blast I need more than 24 hours in a day. Alright. From now on I will at minimum be eating dinner with ya kids instead of in my office. And we'll figure out more to do!" 

"Like game night!" Della suggested.

"Yes! Game night! Great idea! We'll get some board games and start that another night! But for today, I spy some presents that need opening," Scrooge said with a wink. A pair of excited gasps brought happiness to Scrooge's ears. The twins ran to the large pile of gifts and excitedly looked around.

"Woooow! This is more than the last two years combined!" Della noted. 

"Quackaroonie!" Donald cheered. 

"Here Donald this one has your name on it," Della said handing a box to him. Per another one of their family's traditions, the kids were to hand each other a gift that was addressed to the other first before they could open the rest. Donald excitedly tore it open. And then he froze. Della peaked over to see what he got and why he was reacting like that. 

In his half unwrapped hand was a box of new guitar strings.

Scrooge smiled at the scene. His thoughts of the cost melted away especially when his breath was suddenly taken away. Around his torso, a tight pair of arms were latched. He looked down to see Donald tightly hugging him. His nephew looked up at him with eyes so big and teary, filled with such love. It warmed Scrooge's heart so much. His hand patted Donald's head. 

"Yer welcome lad," he said softly. Donald nuzzled his head into Scrooge's hand and kept his grip around his uncle. 

"Okay mister, my turn," Della called. Donald looked up at his uncle again who nodded. Slowly Donald let go and moved back to the pile. Hmmm which one to hand her? All of these looked great. He picked a green box labeled to her. It was listed as "Love Donald" for some reason even though he didn't recognize it. Well whatever. He handed it over. Della tore into it excitedly and let out a scream!

"A WORLD ATLUS COLORING BOOK! Donald! How did you know this was exactly what I wanted!?" She jumped up and down in excitement!

"Wait what?" He asked. She shoved the book into his face. The same book he wished for her! But how!? Donald looked over to Uncle Scrooge who gave him a wink. 

"Uhhhhh of course I knew! I'm your twin!" Donald attemped to play along even though clearly Scrooge had purchased the coloring book. Della grabbed Donald and pulled him into a big hug. He happily returned the hug. 

"I am so gonna use this for all the adventures we go on! Like an adventure diary! And it'll be radical!" Della exclaimed happily.

"Alright ya wee rascals. Hand yer uncle a present," Scrooge called. Della let go and immediately searched the pile for a present. 

"Here you go!" She cried as she handed him a small blue box. Donald smiled as he recognized it was his present. Scrooge opened it carefully.

"Aw! Ya got me my favorite tea! How nice of ya lad. Thank you," he said with a big, warm smile on his face. Donald felt elated. 

The family worked on opening the rest of the presents. Duckworth's presents were being saved for when he'd be returning later that night, as Scrooge gave him the day off so he could spend it with the kids. But the rest were opened with excitement. Donald was glad he bought the giant set of crayons for Della after all. He had been a bit worried since he wasn't going to have anything for her to color with them but now she had the atlus! If he had to guess, Scrooge must have read his letter to Santa. Oh great...that meant he read that he asked Santa to bring Scrooge a heart. Well...thankfully he didn't seem mad. 

"Here Donald, this one is from me," Della said handing him a blue wrapped box. He took it and opened it. Inside was a large brand new sketchbook. Lots of room for him to draw on!

"I saw your old one is falling apart and I'm guessing it's pretty full," she said. Donald hugged her tightly. 

"Aww. Thanks Della," he said. 

Later into the day Donald and Della were waiting by the tree. Uncle Scrooge insisted they wait there while he made lunch. They were still happily playing with their new things when Della tugged on Donald's hand. Wordlessly he followed her lead. It surprised him when she lead him to the grand piano in the room and took a seat. She patted the seat for him to join her.

"But Uncle Scrooge doesn't want us to play it," Donald quietly said.

"Aw phooey. It's Christmas. We're gonna play some Christmas music," she countered. With a shrug he sat beside her. The two placed their hands on the piano and began to play their warmup song that mama had taught them. Their fingers tapped their way across the notes. They hummed along to warm up. Then they repeated the notes and together sang.

"You and me together we'll be  
Forever you'll see  
We two can be good company  
You and me  
Yes, together we two  
Together, that's you  
Forever with me  
We'll always be good company  
You and me  
Yes, together we'll be"

"That sound is a beaut..." 

The two of the whipped around only to find Uncle Scrooge smiling fondly, holding a tray with grilled cheese sandwiches. 

"I ehem...I hope these are good. 'Fraid I don't know how to make much...how about we take a break for lunch, then you two play some more and we'll sing some carols?" Scrooge suggested. They nodded, liking the sound of that very much. 

They munched happily on the grilled cheeses. Scrooge apologized over and over again for it not being a special lunch but they promised they were happy. Then afterward finishing and cleanup the two sat back down at the piano. This time Uncle Scrooge stood beside them. 

"Do you have a song in mind Uncle Scrooge?" Della asked.

"Aye, my favorite Christmas song! Ya kids know how to play "Fairytale of New York?" He asked. The twins shook their heads no.

"Never heard of it," Donald said.

"Oh! Well it goes like-" Scrooge suddenly stopped speaking, his mouth hanging open. His eyes went wide and then he chuckled in embarrassment.

"Actually, best we save that one for when ya older. I don't need ya parents coming back to haunt me," he mumbled. Donald and Della looked at each other only to shrug it off. 

"Ehem uh how about your favorites?" Scrooge quickly asked.

"Rocking around the Christmas tree!" Donald cried.

"Frosty the snowman! What? A hat that brings a snowman to life is awesome! It sounds like an artifact Uncle Scrooge could have!" Della defended her point against Donald's shocked look. He put up his hands.

"Okay okay fair point," he admitted.

"Excellent. What fun songs!" Scrooge encouraged them. With a new smile brought to their faces, the two began to play their duet. 

They played their songs and even played a few more. The music and joy was palpable in the air. Much as Scrooge did still enjoy his company Christmas parties and spending time with the Christmas ghosts, this was the best Christmas he had in years. Easily. By far. 

A knock on the door broke the musical atmosphere. Scrooge opened it up.

"Duckworth! Good to see you! I'm surprised you're back so soon!"

"Oh sir I had a grand idea for supper and dessert and felt I should hurry back as soon as I could. I really should start on this as soon as I change out of the clothes-"

"Oh the supper can wait a few minutes Duckworth. I want ya to open ya presents. Kids? How about you perform another song or two while Duckworth unwraps his gifts?" Scrooge asked. 

"Yes Uncle Scrooge!" They cried in unison. They started with just an instrumental version, playing away at the keys of the piano. Wordlessly Duckworth followed Scrooge to the tree. Scrooge handed his butler his gifts. The first was from Della. It was a tea cup and saucer set, both decorated with the British flag. Then he opened Donald's with was a tin of his favorite cookies that he ate with his tea. The butler chuckled.

"Am I that obvious" he asked.

"Kinda. Also it's like the only thing we know about you so..." Della admitted. Duckworth laughed again but smiled nicely at the gifts. The last gift for Duckworth was in a rather small box. It caught the kids eyes wondering what it was. When Duckworth opened it, it seemed to just be a slip of paper! Now what could that be?

"Oh sir," Duckworth said, his breath taken away. 

"I mean it Duckworth. You present me with that slip when you're ready to go visit Britain again. And I'll buy ya ya ticket," Scrooge said warmly. Della gasped lightly.

"That's what I asked for Duckworth to get for Christmas!" She grinned.

"Really!? Me too!" Donald also grinned with glee. 

"Santa isn't the only one who can whip up a Christmas miracle ya know!" Scrooge proudly declared, tilting his hat. 

"Really sir this is so generous of you. I don't know if I should-" 

"Nonsense Duckworth. You're the most trustworthy person I know. You're served me well for many years. The least I can do is buy ya a ticket in return. But I'm buying a return as well so ta best be getting on that plane home, ya hear?! Don't make me waste my money!" 

"Very well sir. And thank you..." Duckworth said. Donald could have sworn the butler was tearing up even.

"Alright kids, one more song. The four of us this time. Then we let Duckworth get to making dinner," said Scrooge.

"Oh boy oh boy oh boy. How about We Wish You A Merry Christmas?"

"Sounds perfect Donnie." 

Once again the sound of a piano duet filled the mansion. The twins played in unison, humming along then starting again. This time joined by Uncle Scrooge and Duckworth.

"Ohhhhh...  
We wish you a merry Christmas  
We wish you a merry Christmas  
We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year  
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin  
We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!" 

* * *

After dinner, everyone was feeling warm, happy, full, and satisfied. A little worn out even. Donald, sitting on the couch in the TV room, yawned. It was nice watching these Christmas cartoons with Della and all but he was fading fast. This would be a great night to tuck in early. Duckworth lit the fire, making the atmosphere all the more warm and cozy. Another yawn escaped his beak. Oh yeah. Sleepy. Beside him Della yawned too.

"Stop yawning, you're making me yawn," she teased tiredly. 

"Or maybe you should go to bed. Like I'm going to," Donald replied.

"Hey kids! Will you come here?" Scrooge called them. 

"Coming!" They called back with all the muster they could manage. The two wearily stepped down from the couch and shuffled out to the foyer. 

The fired popped and cracked contently. A large recliner chair had been moved out in front of it. And sitting in that chair was Scrooge. Still all cozied up in his pajamas but this time without his top hat. His smile when he saw them felt warmer than the fire. They stood before him, failing to stifle their yawns.

"Aye, a bit worn now aren't ya wee ones?" He asked. They nodded, blinking their bleary eyes. 

"Aye. Rest sounds grand. But first, come here," Scrooge reached out both his arms. Confused but too tired to question it, they took his hands. Slowly he pulled the two of them up into the recliner with him.

"Heavens, turns out you two are already a bit too big for this chair with me in it too. But I'm sure it'll be alright for tonight," Scrooge chuckled. Now he was leaned back in the recliner with his neice in one arm and his nephew in the other.

"I haven't had a Christmas this wonderful in...I can't remember when."

Della muttered something that went not understood but it was probably another joke about Scrooge's age. 

"I'm sorry it took me till our 3rd Christmas together to really warm up to it. I'm going to try to do better from now on...More holly and jolly Christmases around here. Goodness knows we needed this...thank you kids. For being in my life," he mumbled, his words getting softer and harder to hear. Uncle Scrooge was falling asleep and fast. In the warmth of the fire and the coziness of being cuddled to his chest, they were too. It still wasn't quite the same as when papa would hold them in his chair by the fire. But it was strong second best. Donald was too tired to cry but if he were more awake he might have. He needed this so badly and now it was happening. Thank the heavens. Della's hand reached across Scrooge's chest and grabbed Donald's hand. He squeezed it back in return. 

Though tired were his eyes, Scrooge fought to keep them open to watch this. His thoughts drifted to his sister and brother in law.

_You must have known I needed this, eh? That my old, cold heart needed some wee bairns to win me o'er? That's why ya were so insistent on assigning me their guardianship if anything happened...For their sake and for mine. Because they'd need me and I needed them. Not a curse like I once thought. But a gift....thank you Hortense._

His strength was giving out and his eyes were closing. 

"Merry Christmas Uncle Scrooge," came the voices of his niece and nephew. His eyes closed but his smile widened. 

"Merry Christmas Della and Donald."

When Duckworth returned to the foyer later to check the fire, his heart melted at the sight of his notoriously grumpy and ice cold boss, sleeping soundly with his two wonderful kids sleeping on his chest. The whole image was one of peace, warmth, and love. Truly the reason for the season. Quietly he stocked the fire and retired for the evening.

"Merry Christmas to you all, McDuck family. And to you all, a good night." 

* * *

When Donald finished telling Dr. Shell his perspective and what he could remember of that Christmas night, he sighed. It felt like a lifetime ago. Maybe because it was. He was not the same that he was back then. 

"That sounds like a wonderful Christmas Donald. But can you explain to me what it is about that that's bothering you?" Dr. Shell asked. 

"I. Well I. I haven't. Okay um...I haven't remembered that night in so long. I don't know why I dreamt of Christmas last night. It's June for crying out loud. But I don't understand why up until this point, I literally could not think of this? What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I remember it? What other memories am I forgetting?!" Donald started to hyperventilate.

"Hey, Donald, it's okay. Don't panic. In...and out there you go...how's that?"

"Sorry...getting worked up too easily again."

"It's okay Donald. Just breathe. And I'll try to answer your question." Dr. Shell said. Donald continued to steady his breathing. That's it. In. And back out. Slowly. Steady. Like the ocean. 

When Dr. Shell felt Donald had calmed he spoke up. 

"There's potentially a few different answers as to why you're struggling to remember happier memories. But for one that certainly applies is, it's normal for our brains to prioritize bad memories over good ones. Theoretically it's our minds trying to protect us by forcing us to remember traumatic things in order to prevent them from happening again. Also our minds like patterns and repetition. Thinking on the unhappy thoughts only reinforces them. And also for this particular memory you were 8 years old. You're 37 now. It's understandable you'd have difficulty thinking back on a memory that old."

"But what if I'm completely messed up because of this? What does this mean? How many other happy memories am I forgetting? What if my life isn't as bad as I think it is cause I can't remember? Why am I so broken!?" Donald became flustered and started to panic.

"Donald no. Listen to me. You are not broken. You're struggling with mental illness. It doesn't mean anything is wrong with you, not permanently. Your mind isn't working properly to the point that it's harmful to you but I wouldn't describe it as something wrong with you. Because it's not. It's just an injury. An injury of your mind. And being here, being in therapy, these are the ways you'll recover. Things will get better as you heal and even more so once you leave here. You'll make new happy memories even if you can't recover older ones. Do you understand me Donald?" Dr. Shell kindly asked. He watched his patient sigh, shoulders drooping low.

"It sounds so easy but it's not," Donald mumbled.

"That is often true. But not impossible. That's why we have to talk about the things that are bothering you. The memories that hurt you the most. So you can move on from them," Dr. Shell said.

"Will it really change anything? I mean can I really stop being such...so...me?" Donald timidly asked. 

"Give it time Donald. You've only been here a few days. By the time the month is up you may be only a few steps forward. Or you'll be leagues of improvement from your arrival."

"...okay," Donald nodded slowly. His brow furrowed. Slowly he seemed to pull inward once again. As if trying to hide.

"Is there something else Donald?" The doctor asked.

"I just...we were all so happy that night. We were so close and happy for that night. But most of my memories especially with Scrooge are...are painful and bad...he's always so disappointed in me, mad at me, doesn't understand me. And Della too...we keep growing apart, come back together, grow apart...now probably apart forever...I don't understand what happened. Why couldn't we be like that all the time? Was it me? Did I curse us with my bad luck?" Donald asked, wincing as he spoke.

"That..." Dr. Shell took a deep breath then let it out.

"I'm afraid without knowing Scrooge and Della's mind, I can't answer. I can only take guesses. And my guesses would have to be that...for Della, it's just part of growing up. You and her aren't the same person. She has to continuously find her own wants and needs which at times may have pulled her away from you. But she seems to have always returned to you, even from the moon. I do believe just from what you've told me that she does love you. She just has to figure things out for herself. Perhaps if she was willing to, you and her can have a session with me like we're going to do with Scrooge?" 

"Della seems pretty anti therapy right now...she's been good about doing physical therapy but she won't do any mental therapy. Even when Scrooge and I ask her to. Oh but sure I'm the one withthe problems and asking the unreasonable," Donald snarkily commented, harsh venom dripping from his words. Dr. Shell raised and eyebrow and took some notes.

"Well, no harm in asking her even if she does say no. And for Scrooge, my guess is Scrooge and you continued to have issues communicating. He struggles to understand you, figuratively and literally. And another thing is patterns of behavior are hard to break especially the older you get. Scrooge seems to have his guard up, I suspect probably afraid to be vulnerable even. Especially as an older man, he may feel it's not good for a man to be emotional. When we have our session I will be asking him his perspective. I don't want to excuse his behavior. Passive aggressive comments, name calling, neglect, all abusive behaviors. Even if he didn't intend them as abusive. I do think he does love you. When Scrooge and I speak he always seems very concerned about you. But you and I will have to confront his behaviors in our session. In order to have a healthy relationship moving forward, he can't keep doing those things. But we'll take care of that more when it's time. Alright?" 

Donald nodded, his head swimming in the information the doctor just gave him. Slowly his brain was trying to process it all but it seemed right.

"And you, speaking of habits, going forward, need to not hide your feelings as much. You bottling your feelings up doesn't help you. You need to talk with someone eventually or the isolation will make it worse. Blowing up because of bottling up your emotions is dangerous. It's what put you here..."

"I know..."

"So don't point the fingers too hard at Scrooge and Della."

"I wasn't meaning to. All of this that's happened...they played a part but I know my being here is on me. I just got frustrated and gave up...I just wanted to understand why..."

"Alright. Good that you know Donald...okay I have an idea. I'm gonna give you some homework to bring back to our session tomorrow. I want you to try to think of as many happy memories as you can. Tally them for me. And pick some of them. Maybe up to 5. 5 really good happy memories. Write them, draw them, or just be ready to talk about them at least. And 1 thing you look forward to." 

"Okay doc..."

"Alright. We'll talk more again tomorrow." 

Quietly Donald and Dr. Shell walked back to room D2. Already his mind was racing, down the hallways of his memory. Somewhere in these mental rooms, among the mess of his mind, there was happier memories. Some were easy to find. Like when Huey first joined the Junior Woodchucks and he cried with happiness that he found a place he felt so comfortable with. Dewey getting the lead in small school play filling him with screaming happiness. Louie winning an award from the local paper for an essay he wrote and crying of happiness as he hadn't expected to win. His happiness when he found out that he was going to be an uncle. A time at a club where The Three Caballeros band performance was met with applause instead of boos. Most of these happy memories were based around the boys. They were everything. If they were happy, he was happy. Well. Theoretically. 

Reflecting in the quiet, lowly lit hospital room, alone, made Donald feel on edge of tears again. It was hard to be happy sometimes but thinking of the boys and the blessings of them in his life suddenly overwhelmed him. Those three, plus the blessing of a bonus kid in Webby, brought him joy beyond words. What had he been thinking in doing this to himself? 

_Oh right. That Della was going to take custody out from right underneath him and push him out. That the boys had been so overwhelmed by their fighting and side picking that they screamed in unison that they hated him._

A heavy sigh left his chest. The Della and custody situation still needed to be worked on. Obviously. But he knew in his very soul that when he got out of here, he was going to make new happy memories. He was going to get out of here and find a way to make new happy memories. Starting first and foremost with the kids. He owed them the largest of apologies. Hopefully they would have mercy on their foolish Uncle Donald and forgive him. 

The pencil scratched and scribbled as Donald wrote a short description of his 5 selected memories. And the 1 thing he was most looking forward to.

"1. To hug my kids again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all woo hoo managed to update in less than a month this time! I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it's not the promised Navy chapter, I do have a good chunk of that done. So actually the NEXT chapter will be the navy chapter with the important OC! Sorry! 😅  
> But this idea came to me about 4 days ago and I've been on it ever since. Realized there was some really good holiday wholesome potential but also gave me a chance to address something common in mental illness, something I'm especially familiar with- struggling to remember good memories. Also I kinda massively hate the holidays and I know I'm mean to Scrooge and Della a lot in this fic so I wanted to give them more positive spotlight, on Christmas. Yep. Literally pulled an opposite.   
> Yeah Scrooge was a jerk about the surgery but I hope it was ultimately clear he does care and would get Donald the surgery if it wasn't so risky - he's just not good at communicating and made the foolish decision to communicate the way he did. Also I just write so much angst and though I love it, heck, I'm very depressed because of Christmas coming up and such so I really needed to write something more wholesome.
> 
> So! I hope this was a good chapter! Hope everyone enjoyed and can't wait to try to share more soon! Happy holidays!
> 
> Also since I almost forgot. Need to add an additional note. I'm very sad about Ducktales ending soon. Just so ya know I intend to see this fic through to the end. I'm not leaving this fandom anytime soon. I have more I want to write in addition to this story still. At the rate I'm going I'll still be going on with this after the final episode air 😅 But regardless. I'll still be here! I'm on tumblr @ tomb-bloom-noctem or here on Ao3!


	5. Bound at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter
> 
> Donald arrives at the Navy yard to begin his 4 years of service. The first 2 weeks alone are filled with mess of experiences. Friendship, enemies, past, future, doubt and strength, fear and bravery, injury and recovery, in just the first two weeks. And continuing after that. 
> 
> This is gonna be a long journey. 
> 
> (Some warnings about this chapter: multiple mentions of head injury and concussions. One graphic description of head injury. A mention of self inflicted arm burn. Lots of talk of scars. Death and the fear of it mentioned sporadically. Swearing.)
> 
> Super long chapter. Also extreme liberties taken with the Navy because the IRL military does a whole lot so for the author sanity it has been heavily made to have the author's own rules instead of being accurate to real life.

The drive to the navy yard was a long and quiet one for Donald. He didn't want any sounds or distractions right now. He had to be ready. Today was the start of the rest of his life. Well. The next 4 years of his life at least. 

Soon the navy yard loomed over him. Large buildings and large boats made Donald feel very small. With careful navigation he was able to get parked into the long term parking that recruits could use. Then after he was secured and grabbed his duffle bag, he puffed up his chest and headed for the sign in. 

At a small desk Donald was quickly signed in and checked for which ship he'd be on and was handed several camouflage patterned uniforms, one dark blue uniform, a pack of hats for each uniform, and a pair of boots. 

"What's this one?" Donald asked pointing to the dark blue uniform. The receptionist stared for a moment before answering.

"That's your formal wear. You'll wear that if your unit is involved with any public ceremonies. The big wigs figured it's not a good idea to reveal what the camouflage looks like, just in case."

Huh. Interesting. Donald had never heard of that. 

"Also you'll need this. If you need help, someone can come out," she added, handing a bag to Donald. In it contained a razor. Oh right. He needed to shave his head.

Donald headed into the changing room off to the side as instructed. Well really it was a small bathroom but it worked. He set the clothes down on the sink and looked at himself. Time for the nice long hair he had to go. The hum of the razor as it powered up filled the small room and slowly Donald brought it up to his hair feathers. Chunk by chunk they fell away as his head became more and more bald. It was weird feeling. It felt kinda nice to be a little lighter without the hair but also he hadn't had short hair in so long that it was strange feeling. Also it was probably uneven but honestly Donald didn't care. Soon he was finished and he cleaned up his mess. Darn. He could barely recognize himself. But this was a good thing, he told himself. The start of something new. A new man boarding that boat today. A stronger, better man. 

Donald then removed his shirt to put his uniform one on. He stopped and stared at himself. A bit unusual for him as truthfully Donald wasn't fond of looking at his own body. He just felt so ugly. Scars scattered over his body at different stages of visibility. Some older, some newer, most still hidden by his feathers. But to him they felt like they were right there, exposing him. Adventures mostly, a few burn scars from working fast food, some older ones from playing as a child, from the crash...and some scars from other sources. Deep breaths. It's not what you think it is...it's okay that you have scars...

To distract himself he turned his focus to his muscles instead. He had a lean build which he felt made him at least average looking? Maybe? Hard for him to say. The muscles were looking better now than they had in some time. Basic training helped with that. Now he was feeling stronger and healthier than he had in quite some time. That was perhaps the one bad thing about not adventuring as much and eating poorly as a broke college student. Definitely lost some of his strength over the 4 years. However the physical exam he had shortly after registering declared that he was plenty fit enough to register. Then his results from basic training were good enough that he did not have to stay in training, instead he could move forward right away.

"Alright stop being vain. Gotta finish getting ready."

From beside him Donald grabbed the shirt of his uniform. His regular uniform consisted of a blue and gray patterned set of shirt and pants and hat with brown combat boots. A patch nametag stating Duck, D. was sewn on his chest, left side. 

After finishing getting dressed, he took a long look at himself in the full body mirror on the wall. Did he look okay? Like a soldier? Like a man who was strong and independent? Hmmm...actually...yes! It was different but he liked it! He puffed up his chest in pride looking at himself. This was actually a good look for him! He felt like a new man already! This was great! Donald stuffed the clothes he wore arriving and the rest of his new clothes into his duffle bag and headed for the ship. 

The Navy Yard was well lit and well marked so it wasn't very difficult to find the right vessel, even though it was a little bit of a walk away. Each step getting closer felt oddly weighted down. He wasn't afraid...was he? Donald wasn't really sure what he was feeling. Initially he was excited! After all this was a big deal! This was a good opportunity that he willingly signed up for! It was an even greater chance to prove his worth, his strength, his independence. 

But even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, fear was starting to gnaw on him. This was really it. This was really happening. And there was no turning back now. He was going to spend the next 4 years of his life as a soldier. Even though the things he had used to ease Della were technically true, Della also made a good point too. All of it could change at any point. War could start any day now, at any time, for any reason. All types of pirates and bandits out there could attack the ship at any point. It wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. 

Donald thought about all of these things as he made his way to the ship and soon before long he found himself standing in front of it. The ship's size was enormous and intimidating. The large dark blue vessel bearing the name **USN-87** proudly emblazoned in large white letters near the bow towered over him. This was it. This was home sweet home for his next four years. 

Donald gave himself a heavy shake all over as he looked out at the boardwalk he was not going to be intimidated by this. Shake away those fears! Shake away those doubts! It was time to be strong! It was time to be independent! It was time to be a man and that's what he was going to do! With the deep side he stepped foot onto the boardwalks and held his head up high as he made his way up to the main deck.

It was surprisingly busy on board the crowded deck. Men of all ages, species, sizes, all united under this military branch. These were going to be the people he saw the most during these next 4 years. It'd be nice if he could make at least one friend among them. Donald sighed suddenly feeling like he was back in school. Nobody liked him in school. Della was popular and fit in with everybody. Donald didn't have friends. Just a few acquaintances he sometimes sat around with, connected thinly by some few certain interests. Oh great this was most definitely going to be high school all over again.

Slowly he pushed himself to step further on board. His throat felt seemed to be tighten as anxiety built up higher. Okay so maybe this is more scary feeling than he initially thought. But he's been adventuring since he was 7 years old! He's faced countless dangers! Hell, he's probably seen and done and survived things that would make some of these other recruits faint! He's fought the likes of hired mercenaries! Undead armies! Spirits! Monsters and mythical creatures! He's even faced gods and demons for crying out loud! Why was this scaring him so much!?

_Because this is my first adventure where I'm all alone..._

Donald shook his head. 

No. I'm not alone. I'm literally surrounded by others.

_But they're not Uncle Scrooge and Della...._

Donald shook himself all over again. No! Do not be afraid! Be a man! Be independent! Be strong! This Navy thing will be a cakewalk even if yes technically for the first time he'd be all alone and would barely get to see them for the next 4 years! 

_Breathe in. Breathe out. You got this._

Donald took his last step off the boardwalk and onto the main deck. He did it. He gripped his duffle bag, looking around windering what he should do. Other recruits still had their bags while others did not. If he had to guess, the ones with bags were the new ones like him. At least he wasn't the only one with a duffle bag. Much as it was a dumb thing to get embarrassed over, it would have been very embarrassing. Footsteps behind him caught his attention. Others were making their way up. Good to know he wasn't last to arrive. Another embarrassment he avoided, yay.

The already covered main deck began to become even more crowded. Donald found himself lightly cowering in a corner. This was getting to be uncomfortable. When would this end?

Evidently soon. 

A shout boomed over the noise of talking soldiers.

"Alright! Line up in alphabetical order by last name! A through L starts in this line, M though Z starts in this line! And be quick about it!"

Immediately a thundering of footsteps filled the air. Donald stumbled finding his way, he couldn't see where the shouting person had pointed. And he didn't know anybody. Oh great he was going to be standing in the wrong place and called out for it and be laughed at and be embarrassed and die. He'd literally rather die than be embarrassed on his first day!

Donald was pushed about somewhat by others trying to find their place still, with various shouts all about him only disorienting him more. Then suddenly his ears picked up on a voice near him. 

"D! D! D as in Duck! D names here!" A tall, strongly built duck with a duffle bag like Donald was standing and waving. Instantly Donald headed right for him. He gave Donald a smile as Donald approached.

"Got a D last name?" He asked. Donald nodded. 

"Great! Okay now D's over here! Who else is a D?!" He resumed shouting. Donald sighed thankful for the stranger's calls. Although others were also calling out letters and were trying to get lined up properly, it was all overwhelming. 

After some minutes everyone was finally in line. 

"That took far too long! Yes it's many of yous first day! However!!! In the future I expect the lineup to go faster! I expect things to go orderly and swiftly on this boat! Am I understood?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Came cries from the more experienced recruits. A single set of strong footsteps moved down the line. Donald finally got a look at the one who was shouting at them. Walking tall and proud in gray suit adorned with medals, ribbons, stars, and stripes to denote his rank and accomplishments, was an older gray and brown wolf. He walked up and down both lines. Then he stood back before the lines.

"For those of you who don't know. I am Captain Kouri! Upon this ship, my word is law! I expect that law to be followed! However. I do want it to be known I am not an unreasonable man. Should conflict arise, we can settle it reasonably. But if you are defiant and refuse to be reasonable, then I shall deal out punishment as I see fit. There is none above me on this ship except for the Admiral. And you will treat him with a greater respect than you have for me. Disrespecting the Admiral on my ship will result in punishment! Have I made myself clear!?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Rose the voices of all the recruits including Donald. He quickly covered his beak in embarrassment. That god awful voice of his...oh it was going to cause him so much grief oh no. He really didn't think about this did he? Maybe this military thing was a mistake oh no why did he sign up for this?

A shrill whistle pierced through his thoughts. 

"Admiral, above deck!" 

A quiet passed over everyone as slow thuds came closer and closer. Slowly Donald peered around the taller duck he was behind. From the dark stairs that led to down below, up came the strong imposing figure. In the light now, Donald could truly take in what kind of man the Admiral was and it was a bit intimidating. He was almost ridiculously tall and strongly built. He was a black cat that instantly reminded Donald of an old bully from school times, Pete. Except this guy made Pete seem small. The Admiral was clearly older evidenced by gray scattered in his black fur and many scars across his face. His suit was a deep navy blue decorated with an even greater number of medals, ribbons, stars, and stripes. And his eyes, dark in color, made Donald shiver. He could only guess what a man of such power was thinking as those eyes looked over the two lines of men.

Captain Kouri's hand came up in salute and the recruits followed. The Admiral then returned the salute and everyone returned their hands to their sides.

"Good morning gentlemen. I am Admiral Aldrich," the voice of the older cat boomed over the deck yet it was not cruel sounding. It was deep and powerful, oddly reminding Donald of a slow moving yet large wave. Unassuming. But capable.

"Some of you have been on this ship for a while now. Some of you are new. All of you are expected to serve in equal measures. If you're here then you completed your basic training and were found competent, physically and mentally. Furthermore on this ship we have no ranks except for Captain Kouri and myself. The rest of you are simply soldiers. So I don't want to hear any of you more experienced soldiers trying to claim ranks or that you somehow have seniority over the new soldiers. Am I understood?" 

"Sir yes sir!"

"As for the new soldiers, you are here to serve your country. That means serving this ship. You will be assigned duties every day by Captain Kouri. You are expected to be in the mess hall by 6 am. You will eat and then be assigned your duties for the day. So whether that job is assisting in the kitchen, listening to reports, or cleaning the toilets, I don't want to here any complaints. All must be done to serve this ship and in turn, serve our country. We are not at war at this time gentlemen. However we must be ready. Additionally, there is an issue with pirates in the sea and sky! They attack all and steal what they can. So while cleaning the toilets may not be a glamorous way to serve, remember it's better than battle and war. Am I understood?" 

"Sir yes sir!" 

"From 9pm to 5 am all will remain in their rooms unless otherwise allowed by Captain Kouri or myself. And that is expected to be quiet time, gentlemen. So plan your showers ahead of time...hmm Am I missing anything Captain?"

"No sir I do believe you have covered the most important information" the wolf replied. 

"Very well...I believe that your time spent on this ship, be it 2 years, be it 10, can be good years. Good years to protect and serve your country. They may not be what you're expecting. This isn't Hollywood after all. But if rules are followed and men are respected, I believe no one should have a problem. But do not take my words to mean I am a pushover. Captain Kouri and I both have authority to grant punishment as we see fit. Furthermore, you may also be turned over to the military court after punishment and you may be punished by them as well. And be warned, the court is not nearly as forgiving as Captain Kouri and I are. So do not do anything that should get you into such trouble. With that, all I have left to say is. Gentlemen. Welcome to the United States Navy, ship USN-87. May your service be your best. _Non sibi sed patriae_ \- not self but country," the Admiral closed his speech with a salute. The soldiers in line returned the salute. Then the Admiral waved if away and stepped back down the stairs. When he was gone, Captain Kouri dropped the salute and the soldiers followed. Donald finally released the breath he didn't realize he was even holding. 

"Now that we have finished our introductions, I want you all to form one line and follow me. I shall be walking you through a quick tour of the ship. Then I will be showing you to your rooms."

Donald and the other men did as ordered, marching behind the captain as he walked them from the main deck, up the upper deck, down the lower deck, through the mess hall, the kitchen, the radio room, the armory, the practice deck, the med bay, the storage, and many other rooms. Finally after what felt like many miles of walking, Captain Kouri stopped them before a left and right split, each leading to a long hallway of many rooms. 

"These next two hallways are your quarters. A through L last names down the left hallway, M through Z down the right! There's a list with your names on them! Find which room is yours and remember it well! There will be 2 men to a room so hope you like your roommate! Meet back in the mess hall in 15 minutes!" Captain Kouri called as he walked off. Immediately Donald found himself pushed up against the wall by a force of soldiers trying to find their places. He groaned. And accepted himself as painfully stuck on the wall for the moment. This was feeling more and more like a mistake. 

When he was able finally peel himself off, most of the crowd had thankfully already moved on enough for him to see the list.

"Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, so many Ducks. Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck, Duck...there we go. Duck, Donald. Room 45 okay," Donald mumbled to himself. He made his way down the long hallway slipping past the others still scattered about. Ugh how was it still not 6 am? His body felt drained as if had been 12 hours already. Sadly no time to take a nap. Gotta get in and drop off bag and then immediately turn his already sore feet back around.

Wearily he made his way to Room 45 and walked in without knocking. A surprised yell from the other side made him let out a yell too! Donald found himself face to face with another duck who was unpacking his duffle bag. 

"S-sorry! You just startled me is all," the other duck laughed in nervous embarrassment. Donald realized he recognized him! This was the same duck who had called for D last names that he stood behind in line! The other duck seemed to recognize him too.

"Oh hey it's you!" He said after a pause. He then fumbled over his words some then quickly thrust his arm out. 

"Hi! I'm Darren Duck! Looks like we'll be roommates!" He shouted a bit too loudly. Then he yanked his hand away and hid his face in his hands and groaned.

"I'm so sorry. Ugh I'm so awkward. Okay uh let me have a do over," he said with a big sigh and stuck his hand out again. 

"Hi. I'm Darren Duck. It's nice to meet you. Looks like we'll be roommates," he said this time with a calm steady tone. Donald accepted his hand. 

"I'm Donald Duck," he replied. The look on Darren's immediately filled Donald with embarrassment. Donald covered his beak and groaned. 

"You've uh. A very interesting voice there Donald," Darren commented. 

"I know I know. It's horrible and hard to understand..." Donald sighed.

"I wouldn't call it horrible. It's just unique. I'll get used to it. Also I can understand you just fine," Darren said with a smile. Donald's heart skipped a beat. That was such a rare thing for him to hear. Della, Goofy, José, and Panchito were the only people he'd ever met who understood him with such clarity. Even his parents, Scrooge, and hell even his supposedly best friend Mickey struggled to understand him from time to time. He couldn't help but smile back at Darren. 

"So uh I kinda went ahead and grabbed this bed but of you wanna switch that's okay I don't mind, I just wanted to try to get a start on unpacking and all but it's no big deal to switch-" Darren rambled nervously.

"No no it's okay. I'm alright with this one," Donald said. Darren seemed relieved. It was a little surprising to Donald. Darren was much taller than him and clearly stronger built than him too yet Darren seemed afraid of him.

"I uh I guess I will just leave the rest of this for tonight...gotta head back out for the mess hall and all. So uh...see you tonight?" Darren asked.

"Yeah sounds good," Donald said as he put his bag down on the bed on the right side of the room. Darren nodded and left, leaving Donald alone. He took a breath and looked around the small quarters. Very simple and basic. White walls. Two small beds with white sheets, white pillows, and blue blankets. A small shelf that only came up to his waist. A clock on the wall. And that was basically it. Yep. Home sweet home. For the next 4 years. Well. Enough stalling. He better head back to the mess hall. 

Donald rushed out to get there in time and thankfully made his way back without getting lost. The signs on the ship were well marked at least. 5 minutes to spare even. Nice! Go Donald! 

After assembling a quick breakfast of scrambled fish eggs and black coffee, Donald spotted Darren waving him over. So he decided to join his roommate at the far table. It felt so much like high school all over again.

"Hiya roomy!" Darren called a bit too loudly. He immediately slapped his forehead and groaned.

"Okay wait no that was dumb. I'm sorry. Uhhh how about hi there roommate!" Darren awkwardly greeted. Donald chucked.

"Just call me Donald," he said. Darren sighed and nodded.

"Okay. Yeah. Better to just call you by your name than some dumb nickname you didn't ask for. I'm sorry," Darren said.

"Hey it's okay," Donald replied. The weak smile Darren returned to him felt familiar. The same one he himself often made. No it's not really okay but I'll accept you saying it's okay.

"So Donald uh...well what kinds of things do you like?" Darren asked.

"Uh..." Donald felt his mind go blank. Oh gosh who was he??? What did he like??? Oh come on brain don't panic now!

"I, uh, music. I like music. I like playing it, I like listening to it. I can play several instruments...yeah. Music," Donald said with a smile. 

"That's awesome! I can't play. You must be really smart!" Darren excitedly said. Donald blushed a little. It had been so long since anyone last called him smart. Admittedly it was a little nice to hear. Even if he didn't truly believe it. 

"Well what about you Darren? What do you like?" He asked. Darren's face lit up excitedly. 

"I read and play video games! Oh gosh there's just so many good books and games out there! Have you read The Empire of Three series?" Darren asked a bit loudly.

"Uh no I haven't," Donald answered.

"Oh my goooosh. It is amazing! Literally amazing oh my gosh. It'd the greatest fantasy series of all time and it just keeps getting better with every new entry! You know how some series or in fact most series get worse as time goes on? Not The Empire of Three! Oh my gosh how does Alexandra Duckingson do it!? I literally brought the whole series so far with me! Do you wanna borrow you-you should absolutely borrow it-you can totally borrow it. Just say the word I will lend you my copy oh my gosh it is so good it will change your life!" Darren escalated in his excitement! He through his hands over his beak and looked around realizing he drew some stares. 

"Sorry. I did it again. I just...ugh. I get so excited and I forget how to use my inside voice and I ramble on and on," Darren mumbled. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's just uh...it's just. I'll get used to it," Donald said, quoting back the same thing Darren had said before. Darren's eyes went wide but they were filled with joy. He even seemed to be tearing up a little. It made Donald's heart jump a little. He could feel it already, that him and this big guy had more in common than appearances let on. 

Donald and Darren got to talking as they ate about a video game they both were familiar with. Legends of Legend Quest which in itself was based on Creatures and Caverns. Della and him had a copy for their old Airtari system. Darren had all the versions of the game which was right now volumes 1-3. Just as they finished eating, Captain Kouri called for lineup. They quickly stashed their trays and cups and got into line. One by one the men were assigned a task for the day that they'd be busy with until lunch. One by one the line grew smaller and Donald stood closer and close to the Captain. And then it was finally his turn.

"Name?"

"Donald Duck, sir."

Captain Kouri gave Donald a strong suspicious look. Donald sighed knowing exactly how this was going to go. He dealt with it all of his years in school. 

"What was that, soldier? Are you trying to be funny with me?" The captain sharply accused of him. 

"No no sir I'm not! This is my voice!" Donald protested.

"I don't appreciate soldiers who come up in here thinking they're so funny, playing pranks and pretend and such. You better knock it off right now. Don't want to spend your first day in trouble already," Captain Kouri continued.

"No sir please! I'm not trying to be funny! I have damage to my throat, it's in my file! Please sir I'm not trying to make trouble!" Donald begged becoming more nervous. 

"You better knock it off right now soldier. I mean it!" Captain Kouri yelled. The soldiers behind Donald snickered and pointed. Donald felt like his soul was one thin thread away from snapping right out of his body and dying instantly. No! Please! This was the one thing he didn't want to have happen today!

"Sir, if I may, I can vouch that this indeed his actual voice," came Darren's vouce from behind Donald. He turned around to see the taller duck standing firm and true. Like a guardian angel. His eyes turned back to the captain, nervous of what he may do. The captain seemed to be thinking. Then he nodded.

"Very well. Duck. You're on kitchen help duty. Next." 

Donald couldn't believe this happened! He just let it go! Amazing! This kind of thing never happened to Donald! He usually got sent to the principal or Dean while the teacher yelled at him for "being disruptive" until someone finally saw it was noted in his file that he was "vocally impaired." But this time it was accepted and dropped. Because Darren stood up for him. Donald waited in the hallway for Darren to walk by which was only moments later.

"I'm on supplies counts down at the armory. I know most people would probably complain but I like it! Organization is great actually," he said as he walked up.

"Yeah it's okay I guess. Uh I uh thank you. Thank you for standing up for me. You could've gotten in trouble for doing that. And really....not many people would do that for me. So it...it means a lot. So thank you," Donald said earnestly. Darren flashed a big grin. 

"It's no problem." 

"Alright well...kitchen and armory are opposite directions. So. Gotta go," Donald said.

"Yeah. Okay. See you at lunch buddy," Darren said with a wave as he headed off. Returning the wave, Donald then headed for the kitchen himself. 

He spent the first half of the day doing exactly as instructed. Wash dishes. Clean counters. Peel potatoes. Sweep floors. Mop floors. Not fun stuff but he didn't mind. 

Then came lunch and Darren and Donald sat together again. Alone at their table in the back of the mess hall with their trays. Yep. Exactly like high school. But this time, with a friend. 

The two shared their history a little more. Darren was 22, same as Donald. Born on October 20th. Darren lived in Duckburg his whole life. Donald lived a few hours outside of Duckburg in a more countryside area with his family until his parents died. Donald was the first in his family to join the American military. Darren's family had many previous soldiers. Both shared a love for reading although for Donald ever since high school it was harder for him to get interested in it. He blamed it on all the classics they were forced to read. Darren's favorite subjects were math, science, and gym. Donald's were language arts, art, and Spanish. It was funny, how they seemed like such opposites yet they were clicking so easily. In fact, it was really nice. 

But it wasn't long before lunch was ending and the two were sent out on new sets of jobs. Darren on kitchen help. Donald on bathroom cleaning. Donald groaned a little as he and a small crew of others worked on the mess but he tried not complain.

But the crew he was with didn't have the same idea.

"Can you believe that garbage?! What the hell is with our so called leaders? What pansies!"

"Yeah I can't believe this! Both the captain and the Admiral sound like they've gone too soft!"

"This is the United States Navy! We should be charging straight for the shores of our enemies and pull up like what's up bitches!? Say hello to my little friend!" 

"So while cleaning the toilets may not be a glamorous way to serve, remember it's better than battle and war. What the fuck is with that?" 

"I think Admiral Old Dick should be fired for that slander!" 

The men continued to complain and insult. Donald kept his head down and his beak shut. Truthfully it did surprise him that the captain and the admiral weren't quite the hardasses he expected. Guess he expected more of...well what he was hearing from his fellow soldiers. Insults. Attacks. Slurs. Shouting voices. Swears. Cruelty. But Donald wasn't going to complain at all. Maybe it made him less of a man to think so but secretly he liked hearing that the two leaders weren't so "gung ho" and ready to rush into battle. 

"Hey you. You're being awful quiet." 

Oh great. They were talking to him weren't they?

Slowly Donald turned around, all eyes on him. He swallowed nervously. 

"I'm just trying to focus on my work is all..." he mumbled.

"What the hell was that sound?" One of them asked.

"Oh God, so you're the one the captain was all hollering at in the mess hall this morning!" Another man cried.

"The fuck is wrong with you? You some kind of freak?" A large goose physically grabbed Donald by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. Great. High school locker rooms all over again.

"Like nails on a chalkboard," someone commented.

"Is he like sick or something?" 

"Oh fuck it's not contagious is it?!" 

"What's with you, freak?" The goose holding Donald demanded. Sweat rolled off his forehead and down his spine yet Donald felt icy cold. The glare of many eyes on him all at once gave him a "freezer burn" sensation. Burning cold and icy hot all at once. 

"I just have a messed up voice is all," Donald quietly explained.

"Huh!? What's that!? Can't hear you, can't understand you!" The goose snapped.

"God that squeak."

"He's a freaking squeaky toy!" 

"Of course we get stuck with the freak on our boat. It's a bad omen I tell you."

"I don't like this one bit."

"The hell is wrong with you, man?" 

"I think squeaky toy here is in need of some repairs!" The goose cried. Most of the men spoke in agreement. Donald tried to get out of his grip but it was too strong. The goose then lifted Donald clean off the ground. 

"H-hey Ken? I think that's enough, put the poor guy down-" 

"You wanna be next Travis?! Then shut the hell up!" The goose apparently named Ken shouted back in response. His angry eyes turned to burning through Donald's. 

"Please don't. Please just leave me alone," he rasped out.

"Sorry dumbass but I have a zero tolerance for freaks," Ken snapped.

"Dude, just leave him alone."

"Yeah come on man."

"You had your fun now knock it off!" 

"Yeah Ken, we're gonna go get Captain Kouri if you don't stop!" 

"Hey! In case you missed something, that weak ass punk has no right to be running this ship! My gang and I are the real bosses here! If you wanna keep your heads you'll all shut up! No one reports a thing to our so call "captain" Kouri or they're next!" Ken shouted. His size and powerful voice intimated the mostly smaller men into immediate silence. Funny how they were all so willing to talk shit minutes earlier and now they stood quietly looking down at the floor like naughty children.

With a cruel smirk, Ken turned back to Donald who couldn't hide his fear. Part of his mind screamed to fight and the other told him to just accept this and get it over with. It was a constant struggle he had in school and adventures. At least in adventures beating up the guy twice his size was the "right thing to do." But in school it was always the wrong thing to do. Same principle though, right? Defeat the bad guy. The one who was putting him in danger. And yet now that begged the question. Was this like an adventure or was this like school? On adventures he never had to see the bad guy again. Unlike school and here where he was trapped with this one. One he'd be forced to see and be around every day. Him and his friends. Would kicking his ass result in him backing off and leaving him be? Or would it summon his wrath? 

Donald never got a chance to decide what he'd do. It was decided for him when Ken slammed him hard against the metal wall. So hard Donald's head immediately spun, seeming to go every which way at once. It was heavy and throbbing now and he saw stars. But also was completely devoid of any thoughts. He was simply too stunned by the shock to do anything. 

Garbled words somewhat reached his ears. Something something example out of you. Or something. It sounded like it was coming from underwater. Oh wait. It was. Ken had shoved Donald's head into the toilet. 

Water flooded his ears and mouth. The harshness of the bleach burned and stun his eyes and burned his throat. He screamed instinctively but the sound was muffled by the water. Ken was clearly holding Donald's head under. He thrashed about, trying to break free. After several long agonizing moments, Donald managed to contect his fist into Ken's face. It wasn't a great hit but it was enough to make the goose reel back, allowing Donald to pull himself free. Painful deep gasps as he could finally breathe came from him. Water dripped from his soaked feathers. The burning sensation caused by the bleach and the burning fire of his anger made is temperature rise! Steam could almost literally be seen coming from his ears and out his nostrils! The world around them seemed to come to a standstill as Ken, rubbing his jaw and Donald, fuming, stared down intensely. Okay, he may have been hesitant before about if he was going to fight this guy before but this time he knew! He was going to kick this guy's ass! Oh this fucker was gonna get it!

"Gentlemen? How goes things in here?" Captain Kouri's voice cut cleaning through the tension like a hot knife. Immediately Donald's fire went out, replaced with icey cold fear. Oh no, he was so getting in trouble and on his first day! Always this shit had to happen to him! Oh and the guilty look on his face was definitely noticed by the Captain. Face! Stop doing that!

But regardless of his own face, the faces of the others around him were just as betraying. Fear. Guilt. Anger. And Captain Kouri's face held an all too knowing look. Something went down here and he knew it.

"...Do I have to ask what happened here? Or is someone going to do the right thing and tell me?" Kouri asked. His eyes particularly chose to rest on Donald and Ken. Oh boy.

"Well?" He firmly asked.

Words were flatlining in his mind. Oh come on Donald! Come up with something!

"All good here Captain! Just that Duck here had a bit of a slip and fall. Freaked us all out. And he seriously lashed out at us all for it even though we were just trying to help him back up," Ken spoke, strongly but smoothly. Deceptively charming. It shocked Donald to a standstill, his jaw gapping open. But Captain Kouri didn't seem to be buying it.

"Is this true Duck?" 

Flustered and fumbling Donald tried to form a sentence of the truth but still couldn't quite make the words work. Kouri sighed. 

"I can't understand you Duck....alright gentlemen. I'll be back in one minute. When I get back I expect you all to be back at working," the wolf said as he stepped out. Ken immediately stepped right back up to Donald and picked him up by the shirt. 

"Know your place, you punk. Or you're gonna find yourself shoved into it with every bone in your body broken," Ken lowly snarled. 

Gone was the doubt and unease from Donald. Instead he was filled with fire and confidence. The kind where he didn't have to think, he just did. It was the same instinct that kicked in on adventures after many years of doing so. His focus turns not on what can he do but what will he do. It made him strong and brave. A protector. A fighter. 

"I'm not afraid of you," Donald snapped back, looking down upon the bully. The grip that Ken used to hold Donald up grew tighter.

"You should be," Ken added.

"And yet I'm not. You got lucky and dazed me was all. I'm not afraid of you and I won't be pushed around by you," Donald proudly sneered into the frustrated face of the mean goose. Then he leaned his head back for a moment and whipped for forward, firing a large wad of spit directly into Ken's eyes. He shrieked and dropped Donald. 

"You fucking little f-"

"Why is no one working? It wasn't a request," Captain Kouri said as he reentered the large bathroom. This time Donald's restored confidence made it easier for him to speak up.

"We were sir it's just that Ken here got some chemicals in his eyes. I was only trying to help him." He flashed a subtle cheeky grin to Ken. This earned him an expected glare in return. No surprise there. But what was surprising was the way the Captain nodded and seemed to understand him.

"Follow me Goose, there's a chemical wash station right over here." 

Ken's glare remained on Donald as he slowly followed the captain out of the room. Donald waved. Then once the two were out, he picked up his supplies that had been knocked about to return to cleaning. 

"Hey uh..." a southern accented voice behind him started. 

Donald turned around come to be face to face with a chicken about his height and age. The same one who had tried to stand up to Ken. 

"I uh I'd like teh say I'm sorry I made a commen' about your voice, askin' if you were sick like that. That was pretty rude of me. And for uh not being braver to standin' up to Ken better. That was really somet'in'. You were really brave to stand up to him like that. Like an injured horse scarin' off a wolf," the chicken went on to say. Some of the others around them nodded in agreement. A few scoffed, probably still thinking he was a freak for sounding like that. But most of the small crowd seemed embarrassed by their actions and ashamed. Donald felt a bit stuck. Should he scoff and tell them off for being sorry only cause they stood back like cowards and behaved and bullied like kids on a school yard? Or should he try to patch up these bridges? He shrugged and went for a meet in the middle approach. 

"Thanks," fell flatly from his beak. It wasn't okay that they acted like they did. But he wasn't totally going to shut them out either. At least that's what he hoped came across. Honestly he could have probably explained it all like that but he didn't have the energy. This would have to do.

"So uh name's Travis by the way. Travis Phobus," the chicken identified himself as with and outstretched hand. Donald briefly shook it. 

"Donald. Donald Duck...I'm uh...gonna get back to work before the Captain comes back," Donald said awkwardly. 

"Yeah yeah sure thing. I got showers teh clean and all. But uh...yeah just...if there's anything ya ever need Donald, ya just lemme know," Travis added with a smile. Weakly Donald returned it and the two parted. Not long after Captain Kouri and Ken returned, water dripping off of Ken's face and the front of his uniform. Without even looking Donald could feel the heat of his glare and sure enough when he looked to Ken, there is was. Donald was sure once the Captain left Ken would be right at his throat again but the Captain took a spot on the wall and stood there.

"Come on boys! I know dinner is soon and you're probably tired and hungry but this bathroom needs to be spotless before any of you get a bite! Move it!" He barked at them. So back to work they all went. Even Ken seemed to be applying himself pretty well as he scrubbed the floors. For however long it took, be it minutes or hours, Donald didn't know or hell even care, but he worked hard at the toilets and the stalls until the Captain's voice broke through his concentrated thoughts. 

"Alright boys. Put up your supplies and wash up good. Dinner time." 

Tiredness and relief flooded him. Wow his hands were aching! Ugh. But thankfully it was time to be done. Put away were the cleaning supplies and slowly Donald shuffled with the other soldiers toward the mess hall. He massaged his hands as he stood in line for a dinner of meatloaf. It didn't smell great but honestly he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. At least being a broke college student for 4 years made him used to not enjoying his meals. 

Once his tray was gathered, he set out for a spot. His heart fluttered in relief seeing Darren smiling and waving him over. So he headed straight for him.

"Hey Donald! How are you?" Darren happily greeted his friend. Donald nearly fell as he tried to get seated and got meatloaf on his uniform. He sighed.

"Can this day just end already please? I'm exhausted," he groaned. Then held his hand up to his throat. Gosh it hurt. It was stinging while he was cleaning but using it again made it so much more.

"Whoa your voice sounds worse than it did earlier. Are you okay?" Darren bluntly asked.

"It's fine. Just a terrible first day," he replied.

"Oh. I actually thought today was pretty good. I mean it was definitely long but hey not bad really. Especially for the military. It could have been a lot worse!" Darren commented happily. 

"Well maybe for you it was fine. I spent the second half of the day cleaning a bathroom till my fingers about broke off and oh yeah. I got my head smashed into a wall and then held under water in a bleach filled toilet bowl by a big bully who's probably gonna target me from here on out," Donald grumbled. It surprised him when Darren looked at him with such worry. Wait why? Why was that surprising? Geez Donald you just really think that nobody can show any care for you huh?

"Oh my gosh your head??? And bleach water??? And a bully??? What happened!? Oh my gosh are you hurt? Let's get you down to the medbay. I'll find Captain Kouri. Let's-"

"No Darren it's okay. I'm fine. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Except that is a big deal! And you're my friend and I'm gonna help you!" Darren insisted. He went to rise but Donald put a firm grip on his strong forearm. 

"Darren please. Making a big deal about it will only make thing worse. I'm okay. Just let me handle it please."

Helplessly Darren looked upon Donald with sad eyes. Slowly he sank back down into his seat. 

"Thank you," Donald sighed in relief. Wordlessly Darren shrugged. He seemed rather unhappy about it but didn't say anything else. 

The two ate and began to head back for their room. Darren mumbled something about being right back. So now Donald was alone. He made it back to the room alone and dropped onto the bed. Laying on his stomach and sighing, he could barely find the energy to roll onto his back so he didn't. Instead he just lay there, feeling tired and hurting all over. Most especially his head. It still throbbed. Maybe Darren had been right. Maybe he should have gone to the medbay just to check on it just in case. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten a head injury, far from it. But still. He shouldn't take them so lightly. It could be serious. Ugh. Be nice if he had some ice at least or something.

A gentle knock at the door caught his attention. Slowly the knob turned and in quietly came Darren. 

"Oh good you're still awake. I uh," he began to say. Then he held out his hands to Donald, a large ice pack held loosely. Slowly Donald sat up and stunned, he took the ice pack.

"I just thought you might need it so I uh...went down and got it. Pretending it was for me. But really for you. I mean...I'm sorry. I just. I know you don't want to make a big deal out of it. I'm sorry I'm just trying to help and I thought maybe an ice pack would be a good way to help without making a big deal about it. I'm so sorry I can just-" Darren anxiously explained turning away from him.

"No no hey wait," Donald said. Darren forced himself to face Donald a bit better. Donald smiled softly and put the pack against his head.

"See? It's okay. Thank you for...for getting this for me. That was thoughtful of you," Donald said. Cautiously Darren seemed to accept that he hadn't actually messed up. He nodded and carefully dropped onto his bed. Then he heaved out a heavy sigh. 

"Yeah uh...what a day huh?" 

"What a day indeed," Donald nodded in reply.

"And possibly every day for the next four years. Oh boy..." Darren added quietly. He fell silent, working on untying his boots. Donald leaned over to his duffle bag on the small shelf and pulled out his journals. What a day indeed. Sleep felt very inviting but he really wanted to write to Della. He'd have to figure out how the mail worked here. No clue when he'd actually get it mailed out. But a letter had to be written. Leaning back with the ice pack pressed against the large bump on his head, Donald began to think and write.

_Dear Della,_

_How's it going? Miss me already? I'm okay I guess. A bit sore and tired. But it wasn't a terrible first day._

Hmm. Well...guess that was kind of a lie. Really it was pretty terrible actually. The only real light of today was Darren's kindness. Darren...what a strange man. Donald glanced over at the big guy. He was so tall and strongly built in comparison to him. And he had a handsome face and kind smile. Yet he was shy and kind of jumpy. He seemed so oddly afraid of Donald when it really should have been the other way around. He clearly wanted approval. Well, Donald couldn't call that weird-he was all too familiar with it. And then earlier at dinner Darren had called him a friend. They'd only known each other a day and he was already wanting to call himself his friend? Seriously? Him? Of all people? Sure they were roommates but still. Him???

_Actually no. It was a bad day. I've already had a bad run in a bully who thinks the captain and the Admiral are too weak to run the ship. He thinks I'm a freak because of my voice. He hurt me a little but I'm okay. It wasn't too bad and I'm not afraid of him. I'll be okay._

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to Della about all this. She'd probably freak out and be so upset. But then again if he went on to say how it was a good day...she'd probably be suspicious of him. Then be even more mad at him for lying. And he promised her when he was 15 he would never lie to her about being fine again. It was such a bad habit of his. Hiding how he was feeling. Bottling it all up until he exploded. Letting his mental health deteriorate because he was determined to not burden or involve others. And it's been hard for him to break. With a heavy sigh he resisted the urge to crumple this paper and start over. No he was going to stick with the truth and tell Della what really happened. 

_I'll be okay. If he tries anything again I can take him. And I'm not alone. I actually made a friend already. Crazy, huh? Me, making friends on the first day. His name is Darren. He's my roommate in fact. And he's already got my back. Seriously, I'm shocked too! It's definitely a strange feeling for me making friends so fast. But he seems like a nice guy. And he's tall and pretty muscular. So I've got some good backup. So don't worry about me okay? I'll be fine. Save some worry for yourself and Uncle Scrooge and whatever your next adventure will be. One less pair of eyes to keep a lookout and all. But who knows. Maybe without me and my bad luck things will go more smoothly for you two. Stay safe out there Della. Remember your promise, as I remember mine. No dying._

_Love, Donald_

Did that sound okay? ...yeah. Sounded just right in fact. Well. Hopefully. Now all he had to do was figure out the mailing system. 

Loneliness struck Donald pretty hard suddenly. He reached over for another journal and flipped it open. Empty and ready for filling during his time on the ship. Drawing was comforting. Writing. Music. Drawing. All of it filled him in a way that almost nothing else did. Making art was hard, frustrating, thrilling, rewarding. It did so much more for him than adventures. He just wished his family could be more understanding of that. The pen in his hand began to slowly move as he began to form the images in his mind on paper. Not to pat himself on the back but he felt he was a good artist for the most part. His voice may let him down but his hands generally did well after years and years of practice. The lines began to take form. Turning from plain lines into comforting shapes. Shapes of heads and hands, scarfs and spectacles. Familiar, comforting, and at times infuriating shapes. Della and Scrooge. The two people he loved most on earth. And the two that drove him up the wall and into insanity the most too. The price for love apparently. It'd only been a day and he was missing them so much. Was his first night at college like this too? Yeah. Yeah it was? Yes? ...yeah most definitely. He missed them those first nights of college too. Meeting José and Panchito soon afterwards and getting assigned to a project with them soon made things easier. Their friendship eased the loneliness and added a light he was missing. Helped pull him from his darkness some. The pen then formed their shapes. José's hat he loved so much. Panchito's vest made by his mother. The confident knowing smile of José. The wide excited eyes of Panchito. Those two were such a riot. Fun and friendly but also wise and protective. They were great guys. Reminded him of Mickey and Goofy in a way. Panchito was a lot more silly and fun loving, easing going and optimistic, but also carried a heavy sadness that people might not expect like Goofy. José was confident and charismatic, a great story teller and intelligent, but also struggled with one track mindedness and a constant need for validation like Mickey. The strokes turned to ears and a warm smile, to a great big grin and a small favorite green hat.

"Can I see what you're drawing?" 

The voice snapped Donald out of his focus. His head had to look around a few times to even remember where he was. Quickly he readjusted and remembered. His eyes fell to Darren who looked startled.

"I'm so sorry. That was dumb of me. You were clearly focused and I interrupted. I'm so sorry," he gushed.

"No no! It's okay! I just, no I'm sorry. You're right I was just focused and you startled me was all. It's okay," Donald assured him. He sat up straight and flipped the journal over so Darren could see. Immediately Darren leaned forward with great interest. His eyes widened as he took in the detail.

"Wow you really drew all this just now...amazing," he marveled. Slowly a finger came up to touch the picture but Darren put it back down. 

"It's very uh...what's the word, lifelike. Do you uh. Do you know these people?" He asked. Donald pulled the picture back so he could look at it. A sad smile tugged at the corners of his beak.

"Yeah," was all he could say. Darren seemed very interested and it made a small happier smile take place. Donald patted the bed beside him. Wide eyed for a second, Darren eagerly jumped from his bed to Donald's to sit beside him. Scooting close together, Donald spread the journal open between the two of them.

"This is my uncle and guardian Scrooge," Donald began.

"Oh my gosh, Scrooge McDuck! The great adventurerer! He was part of the inspiration for Alexandra Duckingson to write The Empire of Three! His adventures into the jungle to recover the Lost Diamond of the Cloationish people is clearly reflected in the first book when the boys go on an adventure! Wow! That must be amazing to be related to Scrooge McDuck! An actual living legend! You must have gone on adventures too! That's incredible! I'm honestly so-oh, oh no. I interrupted. I'm so sorry," Darren quickly apologized. Donald sighed and shook his head.

"It's fine but uh...it's not as glamorous as it sounds." 

"So...you really did go on adventures?" 

"Constantly. Ever since we were 7. And don't get me wrong, sometimes it was thrilling and exciting! But sometimes it was the most terrifying, most painful, most awful experiences ever. And I just...I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want that life. I don't want to be like Scrooge. I just want a normal life," Donald's voice slowly faded away as he stopped talking. He suddenly chuckled at himself.

"Sorry. I didn't need to dump a that on you," he apologized.

"No no. It's okay," Darren said with a smile. "But...who's we? You said since we were 7..."

"Oh. Uh. My sister," Donald said as he pointed at the image of Della next to Scrooge. 

"That's my twin sister Della. She's older than me by 3 minutes." 

"Do you have twin esp?" Darren blurted out. Donald laughed.

"No not really. I mean we do know each other really well and probably better than anyone else. I can take a guess at her thoughts and probably be right a good chunk of the time. She can usually feel it if I'm having a bad day. She says it's like a tightness in her chest that's really strong. Sometimes I get that way with her too but more often it's her with me. Probably cause I have the worse temper between the two of us. Don't be fooled though, Della can tear you apart just as easily as me. Sometimes I can feel it in my head when she's having a bad day. Like a pressure headache." 

"That's so cool." 

"I..."

"Sorry," Darren suddenly flushed red with embarrassment. 

"What I mean is, that's really...no it...it seems really cool. To be so closely bonded with someone. That you can sometimes feel their hurt. It just seems like that'd be nice."

The perspective caught Donald a bit by surprise. Della and him were close. Literally twins after all. They had a great bond. But was it "just" because they were twins? He'd like to think that they'd be close like that even without being twins. Della took it upon herself constantly to protect Donald. Even at his insistence that he was independent and could protect himself. And he was constantly trying to protect her too. Even though she too was always insisting she didn't need him to either. Protective. Temperamental. A bit wild. And more. Not completely the same but Donald couldn't deny they had their similarities. Would it really be different if they weren't twins? 

"Do you have any siblings?" Donald asked.

"Me? Oh no. No I wish. Sadly I'm an only child. Would have loved a younger brother. Or sister. Or even two or three! But no. I was mom and dad's only child. A miracle baby apparently," Darren said, voice dripping with sadness. He shook his head and pointed back to the drawing.

"Who are them?"

"That one is José. He's from Baía which is in Brazil. And the one next to him is Panchito. He's from Mexico City, in Mexico."

"Oh my gosh that's really cool! Did you meet them on your adventures?!" 

"No not that exciting," Donald laughed. "Actually we met in college. They both moved here with their families when they were younger and ended up staying. We went to the same college, Calisota State University. And had a few classes together. We got paired up for an assignment one day and the three of us became great friends since!" 

"That's awesome. What did you go to school for?'" 

"Ugh. Bachelor's degree in Mathematics," Donald groaned. Darren's face lit up.

"I love math!" He cried.

"I don't," Donald flatly replied. 

"Well why did you get a degree in it then?" 

"I just, I, well I don't want to be an adventurer. I want a nice safe job," Donald explained.

"A nice safe job. And you joined the military," Darren bluntly stated. A strong chuckle escaped Donald who couldn't deny the irony of it all.

"Yeah I know, I know. But I have to pay back my student loans so I'm stuck with it." It was surprising really how easy it was to talk to Darren. Donald wasn't really an open book yet information flowed easily from him. Something about this guy just made him so easy to speak to. Wonder what it was. He watched Darren's face as the bigger man slowly nodded, taking in the things Donald had said. 

"And what about these last two?" He asked.

"Well uh. I haven't seen either of these guys in a long time...these are my old friends. Mickey Mouse and Goofy."

"That's a weird name," Darren commented.

"Oh no no it's not actually his name. It's actually George Goof but he insisted we call him Goofy since forever."

"Ohhh. Makes sense." 

"Yeah. I haven't seen them since I was...gee what was it 8? 10? Ugh I can't remember. Been some time. But we keep in touch. Well sorta. I got quite a few postcards from Goofy through high school. And less in college but training to be a photographer kept him busy. Mickey..." Donald trailed off looking at the picture he'd drawn of his old friend. The first friend he'd ever made. Who promised they'd be pals forever. That they'd never be apart Funny how that didn't to work out. It never did.

"What's wrong Donald? Why'd you get so sad?" The soft kind voice beside him snapped him out of his sad thoughts. 

"Oh...it's nothing. I just kinda miss Mickey is all. I. I haven't seen Mick in a long time. And it's been so long since I heard from him. I heard from him 4 times during high school, all just short post cards. And then the last time I heard from him was my first year of college. He and his high school sweetheart girlfriend Minnie were both going to the same college...really prestigious art school. And she's gonna become a fashion star and he's gonna make famous movies..." Donald chuckled in a self depreciative manner.

"I bet he can do it too. Mickey was so cool. Just the coolest. He was so smart, talented, creative, kind, confident, patient...he never lost his temper like I do. Everybody loved him. Everything he could make was way better than anything of mine. Just hard not to feel jealous of a great guy like him. And I really shouldn't be surprised to not have heard from him in so long. I mean why would he miss a loser like me?" 

"Hey. Don't talk about yourself like that Donald. I think you're pretty neat! So what if you never make famous movies? Most people who are great never do!" Darren encouraged Donald with a small smack on the back. Donald cringed lightly for a moment feeling pain flare but it subsided quickly. 

"That's not to say that people who make famous movies can't be great people but come on. How many really wonderful people do you know that are actually famous? For me it's none! Don't feel too bad about it, okay?" Darren encouraged with a huge warm grin. It was surprisingly comforting in a way that reminded Donald of Della. Only Della's smile was so comforting. But this was a surprising second best. Darren yawned suddenly. 

"Mm heck. Think I'm gonna read for a bit and then off to bed. I think you'll like these books but that's a conversation for another time. If I start talking about them now, I won't be able to stop and we'll be up all night," Darren said as he stood up and returned to his bed. With that he ruffled through his duffle and pulled out a thick well worn book. Then he laid down and began to read away at it quietly. Donald watched for a long moment. What a strange guy. But in a good strange. He had a weird familiarity to him. Reminding him of Della and Mickey and even a little or Goofy. But he was clearly also still his own person. Unique from anyone else he'd ever met. Mostly by his unfamiliar desire for Donald's approval. Was he just projecting or misunderstanding or did Darren really seem to want his approval? So far suggested possibly but maybe Donald just wasn't used to his behaviors. But then again, Darren was so friendly. He'd only just met the guy and he already was calling him friend. Wow way to overthink everything Donald. Just accept it for what it is. He shook his head hard. Reset. His eyes fell again to Darren, unmoved and smiling into the pages. Donald looked back to the journal in his hands. A familiar itch to draw struck him, the blank space left on the page called out to him. The pen in his hand began to guide him and he began to guide the pen. With some lines and some more lines, the blank space began to be filled with the shape of Darren Duck. Glances back up and down as Donald drew to get the image accurate, Darren was unaware of his status as a muse. And soon before long, the piece was perfected. It fit perfectly among the others in the page and Donald felt incredibly satisfied with it. Darren laying in his bed reading a book, perfectly mirroring his in real life counterpart. For a moment Donald wanted to call his attention to it but decided he'll save it for another time. He didn't want to disturb his friend.

For now, Donald decided to try to get some sleep. Quietly he put away his journal and laid down. The day flashed in his mind as he closed his eyes. It wasn't a great first day but thankfully he'd made a good friend. It made all the difference for him.

* * *

The first day had been a slog but the following days were a blur. Adjusting was a bit unusual but it went pretty easily thankfully. Exhaustion and pain were becoming pretty regular for him but it wasn't too surprising. After all that was pretty much the norm with Scrooge and constant adventuring. Should've known that this really would be like adventuring except this time for the government. But so far mostly so smooth. At least he hadn't been so unlucky that he caused the ship to sink or anything. Yet.

The only real mess that had come up in the days following the first day was meeting another member of Ken's gang. On kitchen duty one day quietly peeling potatoes by himself, a large dog evidently named Owen, came up to him. He growled at Donald, warning him he'd pay for what he'd done to Ken. Donald had only shrugged and kept on peeling potatoes. Later Owen caused Donald to trip and spill a large pot of soup and get lightly burned but it wasn't the worst. He seemed to be more bark than bite. If that was the worst Owen could dish out, Donald didn't have too many complaints. 

The other only other incident that seemed a little off was Donald was a touch worried he had offended Darren last night. When bed time rolled around, Donald offered to let Darren see what he was drawing. It was more members of the family. Such as his grandparents, Fergus and Downy on his mother's side, Elvira on his father's. He drew his aunt Matilda and her husband, uncle Ludwig. He also drew cousin Fethry and his brother Abner and cousin Gladstone. Although Gladstone he couldn't help but add a little pair of devil horns to. And then lastly was his parents. Donald felt pretty proud of how good this collection looked especially as he hadn't seen most of this family in years. Initially things seemed fine with Darren once again seeming fascinated by the complex workings of this Duck family tree. Like wow you guys have an enchanted family castle! Unreal! And how Grandma Duck was so nice and had a farm and a lot of times Donald wished he lived with her instead. And how uncle Ludwig was such a strange but intelligent scientist who was so kind to the lil Donald even though he accidentally through a series of typical bad luck destroyed his latest invention. And how the younger cousin Fethry was his favorite cousin. They all probably knew already but shhh don't tell. And no, he doesn't actually hate Gladstone. Deep down inside him Donald still loved his jerk cousin too, it's just his arrogance and pride and selfishness were so painful to handle. 

All seemed to be fine until Donald got to the final two pictures, his parents. It hurt a little to talk about them still as it most always did but time really was making it better. Hortense and Quackmore had died when he was only 6 and it was hard to remember them sometimes. But he still loved them very much and tried to keep their memory alive in him. The unusual silence from Darren was a bit striking. And was he shaking? Oh no did Donald do something wrong? 

Before he could ask however, Darren jumped up muttering thank yous and goodnights, climbing into bed and turning away from Donald. 

Weird.

Darren didn't respond to Donald's calling out to him so he just ended up putting the journal away and laying down himself. Well, maybe he'd feel better tomorrow and Donald could apologize if he did something wrong. 

The day began uneventful enough at least. Everyone went about doing their assignments as ordered. A helicopter landed on the ship bringing supplies and mail. Donald being on the crew that unloaded it kept him busy and pretty wore out by lunch even. But it was perfect as being right at the helicopter meant he definitely got his first letter to Della in the Outgoing box. Now he anxiously waited to find out if she would actually receive it. He wondered how she was doing. And Uncle Scrooge too. Were they getting along just fine without him? Did they even miss him? Had they already gone on their next adventure? Was Della even going to write back? Would Scrooge write at all? 

By far the best thing to come out of this military mess so far was meeting Darren. The two were bonding really well. It may not be much but really helped Donald get through the day. The table in the back that they sat at was slowly growing in numbers. Travis joined them as well as duck named Tristan. They were friendly enough but Donald still really only considered Darren to be his friend just yet. Oddly Darren didn't seem at all to be phased by what happened last night. Once again he was just good old gentle giant friendly if a little loud Darren. Still though, Donald made a mental note to ask about and to apologize to him tonight after dinner in case he had offended him yesterday.

The four were eating in the mess hall when alarms began to blare. Everyone immediately jumped from their seats. A loud shout came over the intercoms.

"Do not panic! Everyone to the armory right away but do not panic!" Admiral Aldrich's voice bellowed. The soldiers followed the command and headed that way. Quickly the mass moved. Travis was clearly trying his hardest not to panic while Tristan attempted to ease his friend. Donald felt unease as well. What was going on? What this a drill? A test? 

Captain Kouri stood before the men once inside the armory. 

"Men, we have urgent situation. Our sonars have detected no less than 20 torpedoes headed our direction. This is not a test! We are legitimately being attacked. From what we can tell these torpedoes seem to be lower quality which suggests pirates rather than another military. But do not underestimate the forces pirates can bring," the Captain quickly explained. He began to point to groups of men. 

"From you to you, I want you on the anti torpedo guns. You through you all to go up to the radio room where Admiral Aldrich is. Follow his orders. From you to you I want to put on armor and grab guns. Split up with half of you staying here and the other half going to the radio room. We may get intruders trying to board and attack so you best be ready to shoot them on sight." 

Then the Captain's points and commands fell to Donald, Darren, Travis, Tristan, and a few other men who remained.

"The last of you I want on our radios and sonars here," captain pointed to a set up of tables and computers across the armory. "You'll be in communication with the radio room and watching for anything else."

Adrenaline coursed through the very air as the men all ran to their positions. 

"Alright Donald and I on radios, you guys on sonar," Tristan said.

"I can't be on radios. Voice remember?" Donald countered. 

"Oh right. Darren with me then?"

"Got it. You guys watch the sonar," Darren said. The remaining men jumped on the last radios leaving just Donald and Travis to watch the sonar in the middle of a large table like structure. Travis clung to the table and shook.

"Donald...I'm scared," he confessed. 

"I know...I know..." Donald nodded. Fear was biting at him too but he was doing his best to push it aside. Feel the fear later. When it was safe to do so. Right now it was time to be brave and strong. 

"I don't think I can do this," Travis trembled. 

"All you have to do is watch the sonar with me okay? Don't even push any buttons. I'll take care of it all. Just watch for anything popping up and tell me what you see," Donald encouraged. The siren was still blaring with red lights flashing over the room. It didn't help to make Donald or anyone feel better but he was trying not to focus on it. Come on Donald you've seen this scenario before. Well, pretty much. You've faced danger before. Don't be afraid. 

The thing about danger and adventure though. Just because they had seen it before, survived it before, lived to tell the tale before, didn't mean the next time was guaranteed. No matter how many temples or dense jungles or frozen wastelands or whatever it may be, the next one was not guaranteed. This was part of why Donald wanted out of the adventure life. He wanted the guarantee he'd live to see tomorrow and past that. The thrill of the near death experiences was not for him. The constant danger grew old and yet more and more stressful. Tempting fate wasn't a good idea and the McDucks had done plenty of that. As sweat from how nervous he was really feeling slipped down his back, Donald tried to suppress his regret for joining the military. Della would be rubbing it in his face that she was right. That this whole enlistment was a dangerous and stupid idea. But, as Scrooge loved to say on adventures - "too late to back out now." 

"I'm seeing 5 detections, stern side! 3 more port side!" Travis called out.

"Prepare weapons stern side and port side. 5 hostiles stern, 3 hostiles port, over." Darren repeated into his radio headset. Donald looked around the room briefly. The armory was a large room and from this angle he couldn't see all the anti torpedo guns. The closest to them was still a ways across the room, currently being manned by a pig. Each gun did have a close range sonar attached to their set up but not the further distance the one they were at had.

"Donald, Admiral is reporting sights of at least 4, bow side. Do you confirm?" Darren asked. Donald made adjustments to the sonar to get a further out reading and indeed spied 4 blips on the machine. 

"Affirmative," Donald replied. Darren repeated the information to the radio room. Donald and Travis continued to alter the way the sonar settings to try to find all readings possible, relaying all information they could. A loud cheer followed by a second one flew up from another side of the room. Two blips disappeared from the sonar.

"Whooo! We got 'em! Keep firing boys!" Someone cheered. More counter attacks were launched from those on the guns. Slowly more of the sightings began to disappear. 

"Cap'ain said these weren't from 'nother military ship. But I be thinkin' how can he so sure?" Travis asked. 

"Size is one. These scans indicate these are small missiles. Another is speed. These are moving pretty slowly in comparison to military grade which suggests lesser quality. Likely homemade or even stolen from smaller sources. And even sound. Military quality torpedoes make minimal sound but these ones are emitting a shrill whistle. The Admiral said the sonars picked this up even before they showed up on the radar. We can't hear the whistle even close up since the missiles and this part of the ship are so under the water but the sonar can," Darren rattled off the info. Another cheer went off as a sighing disappeared off the sonar. The majority of them were now gone as far as the sonar could detect and no new ones appeared on screen.

"I think we're gonna be okay!" Tristan cheered. 

It was then that the ship shook violently and the moment pushed everyone forward! Various outcries as soldier fell forward went up in the air.

"Aw got dangit Tristan ya done dang jinxed us!" Travis snapped. Tristan groaned from the floor having been harshly thrown from his chair.

"Were we actually hit?" Donald asked as he tried to stand.

"Admiral? Come in! Admiral!" Darren called over the radios. A moment later he sighed in huge relief. 

"They're okay in there. Just shaken like we were," Darren said.

"W'at in tarnation happened?" Travis said finally getting himself to his feet.

"I don't understand...can you repeat that sir? No! That's impossible! Travis! Donald! There was no more coming from stern side right?!" Tristan shouted.

"We cleared those already! Only ones left are coming from port and starboard sides!" Donald shouted.

"Yeah! We done killed all the front and back ones already! Bow and stern be clear!" Travis shouted too looking at the sonar again.

"No sir I don't understand what happened our sonar indicates we're clear...Admiral is insisting the hit was stern side. Damage indicators read stern side damage."

"But how!?" Travis shouted. Donald who was still struggling to find his footing grabbed tight to the sonar table to pull himself up. His body still shook from the impact and the sirens and shouting and red flashing lights all did not help him. How on earth or really sea, did a torpedo make it past them!? As he pulled himself up, his face accidentally ridiculously close to the sonar, Donald blinked and did a double take. The remaining blips were getting closer. But there, next to the remaining 4, was there smaller blips? No, it couldn't be! This seemed impossible! But he couldn't deny what seemed be there. Faint and hardly visible came a tiny blip right up next to the much larger blips. Quickly he scanned over the image and tried to adjust. He couldn't strengthen the scan but truly he was seeing 4 teeny tiny blips snuggled up close to their larger counterparts. Donald jumped up and ran over to Darren and Tristan. Donald yanked a radio.

"Admiral! 4 additional torpedoes spotted! Repeat! 4 additional torpedoes have been spotted!" He shouted. Although Donald could not hear what was being said he could make out some squabbling from Darren's headset.

"Yes sir that's what he said. 4 more torpedoes have been spotted....Donald they're saying they can't detect them!" Darren cried.

"Look! I don't know how but they can barely be seen on the sonar. Somehow they're flying these missiles really close to the other ones! The sonar can barely pick them up but I know what I'm seeing!" Donald cried back. Darren repeated the information while Donald turned back to the sonar.

"Sweet gravy I think yer right Donald!" Travid shouted with his face comically up against the sonar. 

"That must be how they got us!" Tristan added. Donald nodded and briefly looked up. Good thing he did too as he happened to notice the pig who was controlling one of the starboard guns still hadn't gotten back up. Donald raced across the vast room to get to his side. 

"Hey! Get up! Come on!" Donald squawked as he shook the pig soldier hard but he remained unresponsive. The sonar on the gun began to beep. The torpedo was getting dangerously close! 

With no choice but to act, Donald jumped into the gun chair, threw on the headset and grabbed the steer. He needed to aim and needed to do it fast. The torpedo was approaching rapidly! With how close it was, he only had one shot to take it down! Steadying his breath, Donald adjusted the weapon, looked once again at the scan and back out the window into the vast dark blue. Other than the scanner he was shooting blind. The waves and the darkness concealed the missile. But this ocean would not be his grave. Donald made a promise he intended to keep. The beeping sonar increased as did his heartbeat. He made a tiny adjustment to the gun and took a deep breath.

With an exhale and a silent prayer, Donald pushed the firing button. 

A brilliant explosion of orange and red fire flooded his view for a brief moment. It vanished almost as soon as it ignited. But Donald didn't have time to be relieved. He knew what he saw. There was a second missile that the scanner couldn't detect and it was about to be on him any second. Donald would have to take this shot purely blind and pray for luck. Luck which Donald was not familiar with. He took another deep breath and lightly adjusted the gun again. Then, mere moments after his first launch, Donald fired again. 

A smaller but equally brilliant burst of color and fire lit up before Donald. The ocean quickly swallowed up the fire but it truly had been there just as the first one had. The shaky breath he had been holding was released. His grip on the controls tightened as his head spun. He had done it. He was right, there really was a second missile hiding close to the first one. He had done it and somehow managed to shoot them both. It felt unreal. Movement beside him barely registered. Sound was muffled in his ears. He was still shaking and shocked by what happened. Adrenaline seemed to make everything speed up and slow down at the same time. The chair he was in spun without his command. Darren stood before him, saying something but Donald couldn't hear. Darren lightly shook him and tried to pull him back.

"-nald, hey, you okay? Donald? Hey??" 

The entombed feeling washed away and Donald shook himself. Ahhh hit the reset. Whatever that feeling was, he did not like it. With a few blinks Donald managed to meet his friend's worried look.

"I'm okay. I'm okay..." he sighed.

"Oh man I'm glad. But you are not gonna believe this! You were right! You're a hero!" 

"Wait what?" 

That was when Donald looked over Darren's shoulder, able to see the rest of the armory that he could not from the sonar station. The men who were down here were huddled and cheering!

"I told the Admiral what you said! I swore my faith in you and so he ordered everyone to fire twice. Good thing too!" 

Donald smiled at the cheering men, feeling so relieved that the attack hadn't ended in disaster mostly. A loud whoop came from to the other side. Travis and Tristan came running over.

"Ya sonofagun Donald ya did it!" 

"You had me worried there not gonna lie. But you were totally right man. Radical." 

"Yer a hero Donald! I couldn't see those darn spots but by golly ya did!" 

Warm red blush flared over his checks making him shyly turn away from the three of them. 

"Aw shucks you guys," he sheepishly said. The three laughed. Light groaning came from beside them. The pig who had previously been running the gun was still unconscious on the ground beside them.

"Whoa is that guy okay?" Tristan asked.

"He flew forward and hit his head when we got struck," Donald explained.

"We'll get him some help," Travis added.

Slowly the soldiers from the other side of the armory began to move over towards them. In front was Captain Kouri heading right for Donald.

"Duck?" He asked. Immediately Donald jumped up and formed a salute. His friends behind him also held up a salute. 

"Sir!" He cried. 

"At ease soldiers," Kouri stated. The four dropped their salutes. 

"So it was you who realized there was more missiles?" He asked.

"Tha-that's correct sir," Donald said. 

"The Admiral would like to speak with you. Follow me please." The captain said as he turned to the stairs. Donald jumped up and followed him, shooting a nervous glance back at his friends. The three waved and give him encouraging thumbs ups. Donald nodded and sighed. There was no reason for him to be in trouble. He'd be okay. Still...going to talk with the Admiral was nerve wrecking. The two walked their way through the group of soldiers who had been up in the radio room, sent back down by the Admiral. Silently the two walked until they had made it to the radio room, the captain knocked twice. A low reply from within called them inside. In the stepped, into the room and the presence of the giant like Admiral Aldrich. Captain and Donald held up salutes. 

"At ease soldiers," the Admiral commanded, releasing his own salute. The captain's eyes, deep dark blue like the water, with heavy wrinkles around then looking so much like waves themselves, came to fall upon Donald. He couldn't help but feel somewhat intimated. 

"Duck here, as requested." 

"Thank you Captain. Please return with the men and ensure everyone is fine," The Admiral said. The Captain nodded and took his leave. Now it was just to the two of them. Donald was average height and all but heck, this guy made Darren who was already a good two heads or more taller than Donald, look really small. And up close he could see details on him better. Mostly the way the waves themselves seem to have carved their way into him. Shaping him. Aging him. The wrinkles around his eyes and across his face, moving over his hands, all looking oceanic. Even the way his muscles were shaped seemed to be shaped by years of erosion. A man who'd spent many years on the water and seen many things. Perhaps even knew the secrets underneath the deep. It filled Donald with fear and respect. He'd always loved the ocean but seeing the Admiral filled him with a sense that there was more than he ever even knew to it. 

The Admiral stepped away from the large map spread out on a table he had been leaning over. Gosh even his steps reminded Donald of waves. Of slow, powerful crashes. Crashes that came closer and closer to him.

"Duck. Can you tell me how it is you came to see the missiles?" The Admiral asked. Donald swallowed nervously.

"Yes sir I well you see sir when the ship was struck-"

"Pardon me Duck but I am having trouble understanding you," the Admiral interrupted. Donald sighed. "Can you please speak slower?" 

Donald began again and honored the request.

"When the ship was struck, we all fell forward. I couldn't quite get back up. I had to use the sonar table for support. My face was literally right up against the sonar. That was the only way I could see them. Even then I could barely see them." 

The Admiral nodded, taking in what Donald said. 

"And then?" 

"Well...uh...I saw that the person running one of the guns had hit his head on the wall and was unconscious. So I ran to his gun and took over. I knew there was a missile really close by. I fired and got it. Then I fired again and got the second one." 

Again the Admiral nodded as he listened taking in what Donald said. 

"It seems whoever launched those attempted a dangerous play. Launching a second one, probably smaller, in close range to the first one. Likely to do as it did, to hide it from our sonars. It seems only the last 5 or so had the second missile as well. Very interesting...I have no idea how they'd accomplish that...." the Admiral took his hand off his chin and turned back to Donald. Slowly he stepped forward and placed a strong hand on Donald's shoulder. For the first time in so long Donald didn't feel pain and fear by being touched by a stranger. Especially one the size of some of these temple guardians previously fought on adventures.

"Don't let this go to your head now. But you're a hero Duck. The one that hit us only bounced off the hull, only causing a dent. But if the others had hit, they may have caused enough damage to sink us. You've done well." 

"Thank you sir," Donald managed to get out of his trembling beak. The Admiral smiled kindly down at the young duck. 

"It's late. I'm sure you're exhausted from the excitement. Best be headed back to your room, alright Duck?" 

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." 

"You're welcome Duck. Dismissed." 

Euphoria radiated from Donald as he turned to walk away. His steps felt lighter than air. He hardly even registered the walk back to the quarters because he was too overjoyed. For once, well not once but gosh with his bad luck it felt like the first time ever, he not only didn't mess up but actually saved the day! A hero! Him!? Crazy! Look, it wasn't like Scrooge and Della never complimented him. Or never thanked him for saving their necks. But their tendency to a more negative perception of him meant these were more rare takes. They made him feel like he was high when he heard them. And now he was called a hero by the freaking Admiral of the ship he was on! This was his military equivalent of that! Incredible! Without thinking Donald walked right into his room and laid on his bed with a smile. The anxiety and the tension from before was gone. Only the happiness that they had all not only survived but he was a hero! 

"Hey Donald."

"Wah!" Donald lightly screamed and jumped. From across the room in his own bed Darren chuckled.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"No it's fine...just didn't realize you were back yet."

"It's okay. Seemed like you were off in another world."

"Kinda I guess."

"So what happened with the Admiral huh?"

"Oh man you're not gonna believe this. He called me a hero!" Donald cried happily. He pumped up his arms in victory!

"I can totally believe it," Darren replied. Donald stared in shock for a moment, dropping his arms. 

"What?" He asked softly.

"I can believe it that he called you a hero. What you did today was heroic. And you're a seasoned adventurer! If anyone here could accomplish heroics, it'd be you," Darren said with a smile. Donald felt a red blush come over his face again. Geez! He was not used to getting so many compliments!

"Thanks," he shyly said. 

"You deserve it Donald," Darren said as he settled back into his book. Donald let out a heavy exhale and grabbed a journal. Time to write Della another letter before bed.

* * *

The next two days passed without incident thankfully. Donald got his second letter mailed off to Della thanks to the helicopter that dropped by. No response from her just yet but he was eager for whatever she might have to say. The work that had to be done wasn't as bone breaking and painful as it had been at first. His body was adjusting to this sleep schedule and maybe it was just extra tiredness working in him but even his insomnia was backing off some. Two rather uneventful good days since the surprise attack. 

The third day held no such luck. 

The first assignment for the day had gone smoothly but then came the second assignment. Laundry. This alone wasn't the problem. The problem laid in the fact that he was assigned with only 3 other people. Ken. Owen. And their leader. Someone he knew from long ago. And oh great, it was not a friend. Donald didn't know it just yet though. Quietly he worked at folding sheets and uniforms that came out of the dryer. Strange that only the 3 of them were in here right now. Captain Kouri assigns tasks in even numbers usually. Wasn't there a 4th person assigned? Donald glanced over at Ken and Owen who were working silently together while shooting glares at him occasionally. 

The goose and the dog who both clearly had it out for him were suspiciously leaving him be. It put Donald on edge. There was something not right here. He just didn't know what it was. Grunting from behind him caught his attention. When he turned around a 4th person had joined them. A pig with bandages on his head. Wait a minute, why did he look familiar?

"Thanks for waiting for me boys," the pig said although seemingly more to Ken and Owen. Donald's memory began to race. Wait why did that voice sound so familiar? 

"Would've been here sooner but stupid doctor made me go to the medbay and change bandages. Again. He won't listen to me that I'm fine. "But Jenkins! You got a concussion!" he wines. Whatever. I'm fine!" 

Jenkins...oh no! Donald knew this pig. He knew him very well in fact. Oh gosh why of all the navy ships did he gets stuck on the one with him!? A small panic began to rise in his chest but Donald tried to push it down. No, he wasn't gonna be bullied anymore! The cold eyes of the pig came to stare directly into Donald's.

"Well well well. If it isn't good old Squeaky Toy!" He jeered with the old nickname he gave Donald in their youth. In the days when he was a hallway bully to Donald.

"Tommy Jenkins," Donald coldly replied. 

"Aww, you almost didn't sound completely stupid for once," Tommy mocked. From beside Donald, Ken and Owen smirked and chuckled. 

The panic continued to rise but again Donald attempted to steady himself. No. Just because he was outnumbered didn't mean he was in any danger. Just because Tommy had picked on Donald really badly throughout middle and high school didn't mean he was going to hurt Donald as he once did. 

"I didn't know you joined the Navy," Donald said trying to understand what Tommy was up to. It didn't seem friendly for sure. 

"Oh yeah. Joined right after high school. 10 year contract. I'm on my 5th year. You know what that means? I have superiority over you. I mean, I'd have that either way since it's, well, you. But I definitely have it since I've been serving for much longer," Tommy smugly explained.

"The Captain said there is no superiority other than himself and the Admiral," Donald said. Tommy barked out a harsh laugh. 

"Oh yeah that's what those softies say. But guess what? They're not really in charge. Oh they think they are. But they have no idea what's really coming. I have friends in high places that'll make the change at my word! I run this ship! My crew and I are the real top dogs here! And those cowards have no idea the mutiny that awaits them!" Tommy shouted. Then he began to laugh. 

"But before all that, I need to teach you a little lesson. For old times sake. And for what you did to me!"

"Wait what!? I didn't do anything to you!" Donald shouted back.

"You made me look like an idiot!" 

"What!?"

"I know you're stupid but don't play dumb with me! You knew full well how close my gun was to the wall! You knew if we got hit I'd hit the wall and get a concussion! So you let that missile hit us! And then you took over my gun and stole my glory!" Tommy accused.

"No! That's ridiculous! There was a missile that hit us that no one could see! I didn't do this to you on purpose!" Donald cried in utter disbelief. Tommy had always been full of himself but this was delusional!

"Shut up liar! If no one could see the missiles then how did you know to fire twice?!" Tommy roared loudly with a sudden jump towards Donald. Pinned between the dryer behind him and the three men around him, Donald was trapped. Oh boy...time to figure a plan.

"Tommy I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be a hero and steal any glory! I just wanted to keep the ship from sinking!" Donald cried out.

"You hear that pathetic squawk boys? Told you he was a real freak!" Tommy laughed cruelly. Great. In all this time Tommy Jenkins hadn't changed one bit. He was still a big bully and a bigot. Back in school Tommy regularly was in trouble for attacking those he deemed lesser. Anyone and everyone was at his mercy. Unfortunately Tommy was huge and muscular even back then. Even teachers sometimes seemed afraid of him. Della wasn't afraid of him though. She kicked him around a few times when he bullied Donald and a friend of hers. But that only made Tommy so much worse so Donald ended up lying that he'd backed off. Besides Della got busy living her own life anyway. 

Tommy seemed to have remembered this as well because he slammed a fist against the dryer behind Donald and lowly snarled "You're sister isn't here to save you this time you stupid fuck." 

"I know. And I don't need her to. I can handle myself," Donald retorted. No way Jenkins was going to win like before. This wasn't school anymore and Donald wasn't afraid. Okay maybe a little bit because admittedly this was not an ideal scenario. But he could handle this. Plenty of hired goons and abominations and otherwise baddies under his belt handled before.

Ken made a lunge for him and Donald ducked. Tommy grabbed out but Donald avoided the grab and ended up caught directly into Owen's strong grip. Great. Caught already.

Tommy readjusted his stance and helped Ken get up too. The two then cruelly smirked at him. Donald lightly tugged against Owen but wasn't using his full force. If he just could keep this up and let those two get a bit closer before they realized he was actually trying to gain momentum rather than escape. 

"You're fucked Duck. If I didn't make you wish you were dead before, this time, I really will," Tommy threatened with a crack of his knuckles. The two came closer as Donald continued to carefully disguise struggling as swinging. That's right bullies. Just a little closer. Come on....now!

With a swift swing back and a strong kick into Owen's stomach, Donald swung himself forward and landed a solid kick into both of Ken and Tommy's faces. The force was so strong it went both the big bullies falling backwards and the two hit their heads with a heavy thud. From behind him Owen was also in a heap on the ground huffing from the impact. Donald put a foot firmly in the middle of Tommy's chest and looked down on his tormentor. 

"No Tommy. You don't get to bully me the way you did when we were kids. Physically or emotionally. Whatever your problem with me is, it doesn't matter. Just leave me the hell alone."

The sudden laughter that shook him literally surprised him. The rumble in the chest that he was firmly planted on nearly shook him off but he held strong.

"Oh you're funny. And you just made a huge mistake," Tommy laughed from below. Before Donald could react or reply, a strong hand grabbed him by the leg leaning on Tommy's chest. Instantly Donald was yanked and thrown directly into the wall in front of him. Hard metal hit hard into hard head. Not hard enough, the hit dazed Donald pretty badly. The world was spinning even though he knew it wasn't really. Or he would if his thoughts weren't completely lost due to the impact. Hits to the head were no joke. Sure Donald was strong and bull headed and could even break stuff with his head if he was ready. In this case he was not ready. Faintly he could sense movement through the spinning. He seemed to be floating...and then the world went dark. Heck why was it so dark? Who turned out the lights? His head was still spinning and too foggy to really think. Damn. He must have hit hard. And then the spinning picked up again. And he hit his head. And the world kept spinning. And he hit his head again! And the world kept spinning! And he hit his head again! And the world kept spinning with no end in sight and he was still hitting his head on something and he couldn't make it stop!!!

And then it all stopped. 

Light flooded his vision like he had quickly traveled from one end of the tunnel to the other. The spinning continued but the floating feeling returned. Drifting. Floating. Easily, oh so easily. 

Drifting away. And then he did. Everything returned to black.

And at some unknown time, the light came back. Lowly and not as blinding this time but there, just in reach. He blinked over and over so as to let his vision clear and slowly began sat up. Okay, wow, no that was a mistake! Lay back down, lay back down. Aw phooey, why on earth did his head feel like a 50 pound rock??? He closed his eyes tightly now feeling like the light hurt more than it helped. Oh no what happened? He had been....he had been...where had he been? What happened??? 

An unfamiliar scratching sound of office chair wheels came closer to Donald.

"Duck? Are you awake?" Came a voice he barely recognized. The ship's doctor. 

"I...guess?" Donald replied with a groan. Words hurt for some reason. 

"May I come in?" He asked.

"I...yeah?" Donald answered, still eyes shut and laid back down and not even knowing where "in" was. Metal rings scrapped over metal bars as a curtain flapped and was pulled away. Slowly Donald blinked and opened his eyes a little to see the doctor, an older rooster, scooting closer on a chair to his side.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked pulling a clipboard out. 

"Uhhhh.......confused...." he answered.

"Understandable. You experienced a concussion." 

"I did?" Donald asked, the memories still a bit hazy in his mind.

"Yes, you have multiple bumps from impact on your head and a scan reveals swelling of your brain. Do you remember what happened?" The doctor went on to ask.

"No...I can't remember." 

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Um uh...I remember going to lunch and then getting assigned to laundry..." 

"It's likely you'll recover the memories later on. For now try not to think too hard, your brain is strained and you need to recover," the doctor said, writing notes as he spoke.

"Okay. How do I do that?" 

"You're going to be staying here for the next 5 nights. Afterwards you can return to your room and certain jobs again however I'll still need you to come by twice a day to check on you."

"Wow that sounds like a lot," Donald commented.

"I understand it sounds excessive but concussions are a bigger deal than movies may make them out to be. And if you don't let them heal properly they can become more serious brain damage. Two weeks is the recommended minimum time allowed for healing. The Captain has already signed off on it. You won't be doing any jobs unless I assign them and your meals will be brought to you." 

Donald tried to sit up slowly as he listened to what the doctor had to say. Aching in his skull throbbed all over as he did and it made him groan some. 

"Yep that will probably hurt a ton over the next few days. Try not to move a whole lot. Especially not fast moves," the doctor said reaching out to Donald. 

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"Um...not really." 

"Well I'd like you to still eat a little so your stomach can handle the medications I'm going to give you. I'm going to go get you some water and some easy food, alright?"

"Sure thing doc," Donald softly replied. 

"Hang tight here okay? Don't leave the medbay." The doctor then stood up and left the room. Once again Donald was alone. But it wasn't for long as the doctor returned soon with water, some bread, and a cup of green beans. 

"Here you go. Easy to chew and still give some nutrients. Then take these," he ordered handing a small cup with a few pills to Donald along with his dinner. Quietly and easily Donald ate then took the pills. He sighed when he finished. Bored. Bored bored bored now. And still hurting, ow. Ugh okay. Gotta figure something. 

"Hey doc? Can I take a shower? Is that okay?" He called across the room to the doctor. 

"Sure, just be careful to not slip alright?" The doctor called back. Donald slowly stood up for the first time feeling ache in more than just his head. Several bones popped even as he stood, ow. Geez. 

"Um...can I go get a change of uniform? Or do you have to do that for me?" Donald shyly asked as he realized he didn't have any other clothes. The doc sighed and thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah. You can go get a change. Just come right back alright?" He said.

"Okay, I will," Donald promised. And off he went with a slow and steady pace back to the quarters. He could smell chili in the air and all the sounds were in the mess hall direction. It smelled so good surprisingly but at the same time he wasn't hungry. And his head hurt. And he promised he'd be back. So to the room he went. Right as his hand began to turn the knob, his name was called from down the hall.

"Donald!" Darren cried. He took big excited steps trying to not run but also rush toward his friend. 

"You're okay!" He excitedly gasped as he got to Donald's side. To which Donald just shrugged. 

"I got a concussion I guess. Actually I can't stay. I'm just getting another uniform. Doc says I have to stay in the medbay for the next 5 days," he explained. The two walked into the room, Darren with his eyes open wide but nodding. 

"Wow that's a bit of stay," he commented.

"Yeah. Gotta stay 5 days and check back in the next 9 afterwards. Doc says concussions are actually a big deal. Weird, I've had them in the past a few times on adventures with Uncle Scrooge but he never took it too seriously. And if I complained about pain or anything he'd usually tell me to walk it off. Guess it sounds silly now but I never realized they could be so dangerous," Donald said as he grabbed out a change of uniform. 

"Yeah they're bad. I've had one or two in my life myself. Doesn't surprise me though you had one. You looked pretty banged up when I fished you out of that dryer." 

Donald froze at Darren's words. He what???

Frozen for a long moment Donald suddenly shook his head hard and fast though he instantly regretted it due to pain. Ow ow ow okay no don't do that again. 

"You-I...owwww. Ugh...you what?" Donald squawked. Mentioning the dryer helped the memories begin to come back to him. The laundry room, Ken and Owen, Tommy Jenkins, they started to fight. He threw him into a wall....from there it was still blank but oh how he could guess the way the pieces would fit. 

"Yeah when I passed by the laundry room I saw it happened. I saw this pig and two others with him throwing you into the dryer!" Darren cried.

"Oh my gosh..." Donald softly said, mind still processing. 

"I started shouting at them and tried to get you out of there but the three of them gained up on me. You were in there a few minutes as I had to fight them. Finally got them to back off when I managed to slam that pig's head against one of those metal tables in there. And then I got you out and to the medbay." 

Donald's head felt like it was swimming and spinning all over again. The information was making him feel too many things at once. Like all the colors of paint mixed together into one gross colored blobby mess. And as he stood there stunned and spinning, red for anger began to bleed through that blobby mess. That awful anger tendency, that horrible temper passed along most of his family, and certainly no exception for him. Anger that began to leech itself onto his every thought. Anger at himself. Anger at Darren. Anger at Tommy. Anger at Ken and Owen. Anger at Scrooge. But mostly again anger at himself. Darren had began to say something else and Donald couldn't hear it over the red, bubbling and boiling. It warbled in the background like an annoying mosquito buzzing. And it started to make Donald all the more angry. More and more red spilling over until it came spilling out of his mouth.

"Shut up! Just shut up!!!" 

Shocked into silence, Darren starred at the heaving and shaking form his friend has taken on. Donald gasped over and over again, his lungs seemed unable to get any oxygen. The red had poured itself over his thoughts and eyes and now seemingly filled his lungs. His sweat, his hot breaths, all only making it seem more true. The dumb little metaphor all too real of his anger.

"...you alright?" Darren cautiously asked. It sent too many thoughts racing through him at once. NO! I'M A FAILURE. why did you have to get involved? WHO DOES THAT BASTARD THINK HE IS FOR HURTING ME LIKE THAT!?!? what's his problem??? No what's YOUR problem??? What you think I'm too weak to fight my own battle huh??? Just had to be the hero! WHY CAN I STILL NOT FIGHT MY OWN BATTLES WHY DO I HAVE TO BE RESCUED ALL THE TIME-what's wrong with me oh God why am I like this? This is all his fault. Scrooge's fault. _Your_ fault. Your fault, your fault, _your fault, nobody else but you_. Wait who even is you anymore? You. You Donald Fauntleroy Duck. The failure who can't do anything right. Who can't even manage to stand up to a couple of bullies without completing failing. WITHOUT NEEDING TO BE RESCUED. Scrooge was right about you. Tommy was right about you. They were all right about you. IDIOT. You're sooo weak. You just can't do anything. I'M TOO WEAK _WHY AM I STILL SO WEAK AFTER ALL THIS TIME!?!?!?_

Aching fingers tightly gripped his even harder aching head as Donald's thoughts raced and pounded inside his skull. Insecurity clawed like a caged animal. Anger rumbled and roared like a volcano on verge of exploding! The shaking and head clutching Donald did couldn't truly reflect how close to loosing it he was. If it had, Darren might have done the wiser thing. Let him have space. Instead Darren, all well intending, reached for him to comfort him. And Donald fell over the edge. When Darren's hand touched his back, pain immediately went through his body as it often did when anyone offered a touch. And that was so frustrating as Donald longed for kind touch. But now all it did was add injury on top of insult. 

Donald immediately released his head and stared intensely at Darren, red blocking his vision figuratively and hell almost even literally.

"Get away from me!" He screamed and harshly pushed back Darren's arm. Darren stared in bewilderment.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm-"

"No! Shut up! Shut up! Just stay out of it!" Donald continued to scream. Insecurity began to meld with the anger that escaped his beak, forming a fierce braided whip to lash out with.

"Why'd you have to get involved huh!? I was fine!" 

"Hey! You were unconscious! You were not fine!"

"I had it under control!"

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did! You should have just stayed out of it!" 

"Oh what and let you die?!" 

"It'd be better for everyone!"

"What?? No! Donald how can you say that!?" 

"Just shut up!" 

"No!"

"What is wrong with you huh??? Why you gotta know? Why you gotta stick your beak in it huh? You just gotta be the big hero who will save Donald again. First from Tommy and his little gang and then from himself! Oh boy look at you go mister hero!" Donald mocked.

"I-! No! I wasn't trying to be a hero, I just wanted to help my friend!"

"I don't need any friends!!!" Donald screamed at the top of his lungs. Palpable silence filled the air the moment it escaped him. The gasps that came from him drowned out in the stunned stare from Darren. It was too painful to look at so Donald swooped down and picked up the uniform he had dropped. Slowly shame crawled up his spine like a spider. And it sharply bit deep into his skin.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I'm not a good person. I'm not a good friend. You...you should probably stay away from me. For your own good. I always ruin everything..." Donald said, voice dripping in shame. Red was being washed away with a mix of blues for sadness and shame. He couldn't even look at Darren now. For a moment he nearly cried, his breath hitching in his throat as he stood there. Then he bolted from the room.

Donald raced as fast as his legs could take him back for the medbay. His head pounded and his lungs burned but he didn't care. He stopped just short of the entrance and leaned against the wall, gasping and wheezing. The pounding was merciless and Donald wondered if he caused more damage like the doc had said. Well...if he did then whatever. Clearly he deserved it. Why did he do that!? Why did he yell and lose his temper like that!? Why!? Always always always losing himself to his anger like that! WHY!?!?

Donald wanted so badly to slam his head into the wall but instead he leaned it against the cold metal. Sweat cooled as he pushed himself into it harder. Idiot, idiot, idiot! The fuck was wrong with him! Tears threatened to spill over and mingle with the sweat running down his face but he resisted. Not time for a pity party! But gah! It was infuriating that this keeps happening! Why did he lose himself like that! Darren was only trying to help! Aw phooey phooey phooey. Fuck it all! Just why on top of everything else wrong with him did he have to have such a volatile temper too!?!?

After some moments of breathing heavily, head still hard pressed against the wall, Donald felt composed enough to walk again. Negative feelings of guilt and a bit of sadness and anger still remained. But he tried to tell himself it'll be okay. He'll take his shower and finish calming down. Then he'll go back to the room, apologize for his lashing out, then come back. Yeah, good idea. Very good idea.

When Donald stepped back into the medbay he was immediately confronted by the doctor.

"Where were you and why are you sweating?" He immediately asked. Donald swallowed hard. Oh no. 

"I uh...I-"

"I told you to go and come right back. You've been gone far too long and now you look like you ran a marathon!"

"I kinda sorta ran a little and had to stop for breath," Donald half confessed.

"Ugh! Duck! No! I told you not to exert yourself!" The doctor groaned.

"I'm sorry..."

"Look, I'm not trying to make a big deal over nothing. It's just that this really is a big deal and I don't want you getting permanent brain damage from this!" The doc sighed as he looked at Donald with the concern evident on his aged face. It hit Donald suddenly that this doc has probably seen things. Awful things. And wants to not let it ever happen again.

"I'm really sorry doc I wasn't trying to not take it seriously it's just that....that-"

"No save it. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Just...just go take your shower Duck. But know this, you're not leaving this room for the next 5 days." 

"WHAT?" Donald shrieked.

"You heard me. Apparently letting you leave was a mistake. You need to stay here before anything else happens and you wind up hurt worse or even killed."

"But doc, I really really have to go apologize to someone!" Donald begged.

"You can apologize in a few days when you leave. End of discussion. Go take your shower," the doctor ordered. Knowing he had no way out, Donald sighed, deflating like a balloon.

"Yes sir," he mumbled as he sulked off to the shower room in the back of the medbay. He closed the door behind him and resisted the urge to scream. Unfair! He didn't mean to do anything wrong! Okay sure the doc had already said before he'd be relatively confined to this area but come on! He did wrong by Darren and need to make it right! Donald tightly gripped the closest handrail and wringed tightly as he could. In a real freak out Donald could probably rip these rails right off the wall. Tear this whole private shower apart! But he wasn't that angry. No. Instead he was more sad. Sad that he did what he always did. Take his anger and insecurities out on everyone around him, especially his friends. Tears began to finally spill quietly as he stood there still holding tightly to the handrail. Everyone who came near him only suffered for it. He was not a new man. He was still the same bad luck, no good Donald Duck. The failure. The toxic friend. The bad brother. The terrible nephew. The worst. The literal worst at everything and the worst for everyone. Self hatred roamed over every inch of him. Aw phooey why did he have to be like this? He finally released the handrail and stripped his uniform sticking it off to the side along with the clean one. Then he got the shower working, feeling the cold water hit him immediately. He let out a small shriek but quickly gathered himself. Whatever. It didn't actually bother him that much. And it was getting warmer. He scrubbed at his feathers and skin, mentally picturing washing away his toxicity. But it never was real. It never truly worked. Still toxicity remained in him and all over him, making him the disaster, the terrible person he was. Gosh why did it have to be this way? Was he cursed? Well according to that one cousin of Storkules, no. (Which cousin? He couldn't remember. Storkules had way too many cousins.) He scrubbed harder and harder at his arm but no matter how literally clean he was, it still wasn't right. Just beneath the skin was whatever made him so damn evil, he was sure of it. A memory suddenly flashed in his mind. A time back in high school when Donald had been in the lab with Scrooge and new intern at the time, Gyro. Gyro was showing off some tech piece for Scrooge and Donald had wondered around the lab a little, spying some chemicals in beakers. The then 15 year old and already way mentally ill Donald impulsively grabbed one and splashed it over his arm. Scrooge had come running and his scream and Gyro screamed at him for messing with the dangerous acids but Scrooge screamed over Gyro for Duckworth to get them to the hospital. His arm had been severely burned for some weeks afterwards with a bit of scarring afterwards although the feathers covered it. Della cried in worry and interrogated him why he had done it. She wouldn't believe it was an accident even though for him that was totally possible. So stupidly clumsy. But this time it was like she knew he had done it intentionally. He couldn't explain how in his rash decision making he thought it would fix him. If he could just burn away, get rid of, destroy it. Then he'd be clean. Be free. He couldn't explain it. She wouldn't get it. So instead he just insisted it was an accident. Let her continue to be suspicious all she wanted. Now as Donald washed himself in the shower, he pushed back the feathers on his arm to see the mix of faint and white scars. So many memories flashed in his mind of the many many times he felt like a bad friend. Bad brother. Bad person. Like toxic waste. Like a nuclear bomb ready to go off any second. Would he really be able to ever stop being like this? Would he be able to stop being this toxic nightmare he saw himself as and subjected everyone he loved as victim to? The water continued to hit him as his thoughts continued to rain in his mind. For years he's been so ridiculously miserable with the negative thoughts and dangerous self. He needed to do something about it. This wasn't working. He couldn't fix himself. Couldn't cure himself. He couldn't scrub or burn or cut or drink away whatever inside of him made him like this and everyone was suffering for it. 

_Come on Donald. You gotta fix this. You can't keep doing this. Getting angry and being awful and then running off feeling sorry for yourself and coming back to apologize....this has to stop_. But what am I supposed to do? I...Gosh I just...

_You've GOT to change!_

....I know...

Donald sighed heavily. He stopped scrubbing harshly at his skin. The truth was right there on the tip of his tongue and he felt a sudden fear to admitting it. But he knew it needed to be said. Needed to be done. Something that Della and José and Panchito all greatly encouraged. And Scrooge immediately shot down. Another sigh escaped him then he inhaled deeply. Speaking to no one but himself and the water drops that stayed only for a moment, passing by his confession. 

"I need therapy." 

The sound echoed lightly off the small shower. But it felt so relieving to hear. The weight leapt off his chest and washed down the drain. Yeah...it was the truth. It was painful to admit it. He could feel Scrooge's disapproval already. Glaring down at him, eyes burning behind his spectacles. Burning like a magnifying glass held up to the sun with the beam burning him like the tiny ant he was. For whatever reason he had, in the past Scrooge had always been strongly opposed to the very idea of Donald getting therapy, insisting the lad had no need for it. But for the first time it was truly dawning on Donald that he didn't need Scrooge's approval anymore. He was an adult. He could get his own damn therapy. Well. Eventually could. He was sure a military enlistment would make that more difficult. But maybe after his 4 years ended? That'd be quite a wait but in his heart he felt it would be worth it. Yeah....now that's a plan. Finish his enlistment. Get a job. Move out. Get therapy. Similar to his plan he made back in college. Be his own man and take care of himself. Could he do it? Surely he could, right? 

If I can take on spirits, temple guardians, armed goons, and all sorts of creatures of myth...I can take on anything....Right?

The water which already hadn't been very warm turned to ice cold causing Donald to jump back. He shrieked lightly and shut it off. Okay okay. He can take a hint! Time to be done...continue this thought another time. He finished drying up and changed into the clean uniform. He grabbed his dirty clothes and went back for the bed he'd woken up in. The doctor came over to Donald with a clipboard again. 

"All better?" He asked.

"I guess," Donald said flatly. 

"Well lights out soon but before that, need to get some more info." 

The two took a few minutes to go over some things and a few short tests. Then the doc headed off and Donald was alone in the now dimly lit room. He sighed and laid down. 

"Hey Darren...I'm really sorry. When I make it out of here, I'll make it right." 

His soft apology went up into the air as if it would actually be heard. It was pointless of course but he had to get off his chest for now. In 5 days he'd be able to make it right. The only thing was he hoped Darren would be willing to hear him out...

* * *

The next five days seemed to pass like eternity. Doc made good on his threat to keep Donald in the medbay. Meals were brought to him. Small tasks were assigned occasionally. A few times other soldiers would swing by but no one was staying like he was. Lots of tests. Lots of questions. Lots of pills. Again and again his temper tried to flare within him but Donald tried to breathe deeply or distract himself to keep it cool. 

On his fourth day of being there, Captain Kouri himself swung by. Donald immediately formed his salute dropping the box of bandages and guaze he was carrying. 

"At ease Duck," Captain said as he walked closer. 

"How's the head?" He asked.

"Fine as far as I know but doc would be better for that question," Donald replied as he cleaned up the stuff that fell. 

"Well. Glad to hear it soldier. I hope the recovery continues to go smoothly," Kouri said with a nod and went over to the doctor for a few minutes and then left with a brief "good day." 

"Huh...so strange," Donald commented.

"What's strange Duck?" The doctor asked. He jumped a little in surprise but calmed quickly. 

"Oh! I uh...um I meant uh...well Captain Kouri and Admiral Aldrich, sir. I mean no disrespect but they're...not what I expected?" He half asked.

"I hear that a lot," Doc chuckled. "Expected them to be hollerin' everywhere they go and call you maggots that are lower than dirt and other foul thing?" 

"Yeah something like that..."

"Well if you were on any other boat you'd probably get that. But here...nah. Admiral and Captain aren't about that. I mean, at one point they were. Admiral's been manning this boat for more than 30 years. And Captain Kouri started out much like you before he climbed the ranks."

"Wow...so how long have you been here then?" Donald asked.

"Oh not as long. Admiral already had a few years here before I was. I don't keep track exactly but I know it's at least been 20 years....but yeah. Admiral decided that yelling all the time and name calling and encouraging bullying didn't serve the ship or its men. 'Specially not after what happened to Porter."

"Porter?" 

"Oh..." Doc suddenly looked a bit embarrassed for mentioning it, like it was something to not be said. The older rooster looked contemplative then sighed.

"Well I'll tell ya if you don't go spreading the story around. Both Admiral and Captain don't like being reminded of it."

With great intrigue, Donald sat down on the closest chair and scooted a bit closer to the doc's desk. 

"I won't sir," he promised.

"Alright. Well, it was some years back. Around 15 or so. Porter was the captain back then. And like all captain's, he started out as a crew member and was eventually voted on becoming captain by the big wigs. See the Admiral alone can't pick that. They decide. They look at everything from Admiral and previous Captain's notes on ya. They look at proficiency. If you've earned any medals. Stuff like that. And Porter was, well, everyone knew he was gonna get it. He was this huge falcon, very strong and capable, but could also light up the room with laughter. Had a ton of medals and good remarks. The kind of guy everyone wanted to be. So absolutely no surprise when he was voted to be Captain when Captain Rowe was ready to retire. But there was someone who thought he should be captain instead. A rather unpleasant pig by the name Thomas Jenkins-"

"Wait Jenkins!?" Donald asked. The doc nodded his head. 

"Yeah. Jenkins. There's been a lot of them in the navy. And unfortunately they all come from the same nasty tree. Thomas Jenkins thought he should be Captain and frankly I believe he had his eye set on becoming Admiral as well. But when Porter was picked instead...oh it was not good. Jenkins went nuts. Totally wrecked up a couple of rooms and such. But afterwards it seemed fine, at least for a while. Now Porter wasn't the kind of guy to be a bully. But he did still lead the way the Admiral and former Captain Rowe did. He used the name calling as a way to push the men into wanting to be better. He encouraged strength and rising up. And Jenkins...took it too personally I guess. Didn't like that Porter got to be the one bossing him around and such. So one night Jenkins jumped him."

Donald saw it coming yet still let out a gasp.

"Coward did so in a dark hallway to get the element of surprise. He got Porter by the head and smashed him into the walls over and over again. Gosh his head looked so bad when he was found and brought to me...like a rotten fruit. All dark red and purple, swollen and misshapen. But when he arrived, he could still speak and was competent. Flipping miracle. He told me what happened. So I brought forth accusations on Porter's behalf. But technically there was no proof that Jenkins did it so he got away scot free."

"Wait what!?" Donald shrieked. "How!?" 

"Jenkins had many friends and family in the ranks. Porter told me what happened but Jenkins argued that with the head damage Porter received, he could think it was anyone. Argued that Porter couldn't really know who did this to him. And unfortunately...the court marshall decided to rule in his favor. I argued so hard that Porter was competent when he arrived. That despite his injuries, Porter knew who did this to him. He could tell me the date, who he was, where he was, who the President was, how many fingers I was holding up, everything....And still they chose to rule in Jenkins' favor." 

Donald felt shaken to his core. 

"The Jenkins really do get away with everything..." he said with a small tinge of fear in his voice. Doc looked down, closing his eyes and cringing.

"It sure seems that way..." 

"And Porter? What happened to him?" Donald asked, afraid he already knew the answer. Doc gave him a small knowing look before confirming. 

"For a while he was okay. In an awful state but he seemed like he'd somehow pull through. Then he slipped into comatose. We got him sent back to land after that happened. In a military hospital back on land. And it...wasn't enough. He died after a few weeks." The doc took a big drink water and sighed, guilt looking evident on his face. 

"Nothing I or anyone could do sadly. I've felt guilty about it ever since but it was a warning I was given back when I was in school. You can't save 'em all. But the Admiral...Ever since then, the yelling and name calling, all vanished. We've lost men on this ship before but never like that. Never a soldier turning on his fellow soldier like that. I think the Admiral feels responsible for it. Feels like he led an environment that allowed a bully like Thomas Jenkins to transform into an even bigger monster. And caused Porter's death..."

"Wow..." Donald breathed slowly.

"So yeah. That's when the changes began. I know the Admiral gets some heck sometimes for it. People think he's going soft or something. But honestly...I like it. I think it's been better for the ship and the men ever since. Less fights that get men sent to my medbay. Less dishonorable discharges for fights and aggression. Even somewhat a decrease in reports of depression. Military life is still hard and I think doing away with all that unnecessary aggression helps," said the doc. Donald nodded along in agreement. 

"So Thomas Jenkins managed to not only get off scot free but also some years later get a high ranking promotion back on land...Kouri got promoted to Captain after Porter's death but Jenkins didn't try the same move twice. Glad for that on the one hand but on the other kinda wish he did just so the bastard could end up behind bars...But anyway. Enough sitting around. I gotta get you some lunch and you still have a few more things to put away," doc said as he jumped up from his desk. Cautiously Donald stepped up too. Thoughts bounced in his mind. His memory did indeed come back. He remembered what Tommy Jenkins did. It had been weighing on him, wondering if he should come forward or not. Would it be worth it? It never was in the past. In school when Tommy picked on him, teachers almost never did anything. It was always "oh but how do you know it was him?" Or "I can't understand what you're saying" or just something! And frankly reporting would likely incurr is wrath so...

"Are you alright Duck?" 

"Sorry just...yeah. I'm fine," he lied. 

"Alright...I'll be right back." 

Like so many times before in his life, Donald was left alone. Alone with his dangerous thoughts. This time the dangerous thought was what a coward he was. Couldn't even stand up to a bully who was just another in a long line of bullies. It made a lot of sense. Donald could remember Tommy bringing his father in for career day. He remembered Mr. Jenkins had been military. Of course Tommy followed in his path. Both career and being a jerk. It was frustrating losing to him so much. Donald ran his hand over his skull, feeling the swollen bumps that were still present. His fists tightened. No. Never again. Maybe as a kid he wasn't strong enough to stand up to Tommy but no more. He wasn't gonna be pushed around and beaten up anymore! Quietly Donald vowed that never again would he let himself be victim to Jenkins or anyone. Okay so that hadn't worked out quite as well last time but regardless. Even if he lost the battle, he was going to win the war. Wouldn't let himself be bullied into silence. Porter's fate would not be the same as his. Donald knew he had his own issues that needed to be worked on and part of that not letting Tommy and his gang get to him. But he wasn't about to stoop to their level either. Again his mind assaulted him with thoughts and feelings of how bad and toxic he was. Carefully Donald shook his head no. He wasn't as bad as some but he still needed to improve on himself as well.

For the second time in a week, Donald made a strong promise to himself. Doubt made an attack at him but he tried to push it back. No. He was going to do it! He WOULD succeed. He WILL succeed!

As he finished putting away the last of the supplies, Donald summed up his thoughts from the last few days into a simple mantra.

Don't be sorry. Be better. 

* * *

Nightfall of the 5th day fell. Dinner was brought to Donald for the last time. Nerves and excitement flowed through him. No offense to the doc who was a nice guy and all but Donald was ready to get out of here. And hopefully it wasn't too late to apologize to Darren. For such a brief time of knowing him, Donald found himself missing him. And even Tristan and Travis too. They were good guys. Tristan clearly a city guy judging by the way he talked and held himself. And Travis a country boy going by the accent. Surely they knew by now what happened. Donald wanted to make things right. And tonight, hopefully he was going to. Just have to get Doc's approval to head out. After finishing dinner and his last portion of pills, the good doctor gave Donald one last checking. Like music to Donald's ears, Doc gave the approval to return to his room.

"Looks good! The swelling is all gone and everything is looking back to normal. You can head back to your room tonight. But remember, I need to see you twice daily for the next 9 days or until I say otherwise. Got it?" 

"Got it." 

"I'll be informing Captain Kouri of course. You'll still have some limitations on which jobs you can do for the time being and for the love of God don't hit that head again. I know you're a stubborn thick headed one but still," Doc said with a chuckle. Donald also chuckled at the comment.

"Yeah...I won't Doc," he said. Again his mind went back to wondering if he should come clean about Tommy Jenkins involvement. No, not this time. For now he'd let it slide. But he was determined to never again let Jenkins hurt him. That was his final chance. If he did it again, Donald would make him regret it. So instead he kept his mouth shut about it. No, he had more important things to worry about. Right now all Donald wanted was to see his friend and apologize for his failures. 

With the last of final check over completed, Doc sent Donald on his way. He took a big stretch as he stepped out of the medbay. Ahh freedom! Felt good to be out of there. Noises down the hall clued him that dinner was still going strong. For a moment he considered heading that way but decided against it. No better just go to the room. He can wait for Darren to show up there. The mess hall seemed a little too overwhelming right now. So with carefully confident strides Donald headed for the quarters. Hand on the knob he pushed the door open carefully and stopped. Darren was already in the room. On his bed. Asleep...? Maybe? Quietly Donald pushed the door a little more open and carefully tip toed in. Steady breathing held steadily. Yep. Seemed to be asleep. Very carefully Donald pushed the door closed with the smallest click of the knob. Then he tip toed to his bed and climbed in. He really wanted to write a letter or maybe draw even. The itch was in his hands. But that would make noise. It could wait, he decided. He wasn't that tired honestly but what the heck. Some extra sleep might feel good. After all he'd had it pretty easy these past few days. Tomorrow he'd be back at the regular. Yeah...he should just close his eyes...get some rest...feel at peace as the world goes dark...

Sobs pulled him from the dark. His eyes flew open, although the pitch black of the room made that hard to tell. Confusion cut through his groggyness. Sobbing? Wait what was happening...He rubbed his eyes and face. No wetness on his own face. He wasn't crying. Wait so then...

Donald sat up, his back popping as he did. He let out a small groan. The sobbing immediately stopped. It was too dark to see but Donald knew what was in front of him. 

"Darren?" He called out softly. A slight rustling sound was the only response. 

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I uh got released last night and you were already sleeping when I got here. So I didn't wanna bug you..." Silence was his only reply. 

"Look I know you're awake and if you don't wanna talk, fine. Don't talk. But I need to say something. I am sorry. I'm sorry I lost my temper on you. I'm sorry I yelled at you and accused you and got all well....typical mean Donald on you. It...it's not anything personal. It'd just me. I have an awful temper. I lose it so easily and I lash out on everyone and everything for it. Everyone suffers because of it. And that's what I did to you when you were just trying to be my friend. And for that I'm really sorry." 

Some creaks and rustling sounded off but no words came. 

"If you're still mad at me...if you hate me, if you don't want to be my friend anymore...I get it. I wouldn't want to be friends with me either. I have issues...obviously," he added with a slight chuckle in self hatred. "I need to not be like that in order to be a better friend...not just to you but everyone. I'm going to get some therapy. Couldn't do that before but I will. I can't promise I won't lose my temper again. But I promise to try to not to...." 

"It's okay," Darren finally replied quietly. 

"No...it's really not. I need to do better. Be better. And I'm really sorry." 

"It's okay." 

"....okay." 

Silence then fell almost awkwardly between them. Donald didn't want to push too much but he knew things weren't just back to all good now...

...okay he was gonna push.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Ha. Fine. That word. Hilarious. A word that some meant you were...well "fine." That things were alright, maybe could be better but doing well at least. And for others a word that meant "I'm falling apart at the seams and literally hate even existing right now but it's whatever." And for Donald, it was always the second definition. He had a strong gut feeling it was right now this way for Darren too. 

"Are you?" 

".....no." 

Oh wow progress. Nice. Just a little but nice. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"I....will you promise not to judge me?" 

Definitely an unexpected question. It made him hesitate before answering. Always was a weird one to look out for. Sometimes when someone asks that they end up revealing something innocent they worry they'll be laughed at for. Like Panchito feeling embarrassed over his love of hot chocolates before finally opening up to his friends. Then there's times people reveal stuff that's...well more uncomfortable. Like the time Della asked him not to judge her and she revealed she stole a stop sign from a knocked over street sign even though it was still highly illegal and possibly dangerous even if it was already knocked over. Like who does that? Della apparently. Quietly he hoped it'd be more like the first one. 

"Okay. I promise." 

"I uh..." Darren started to stammer. Even in the dark Donald could tell he was nervously wringing at his uniform. 

"I was...crying yes," Darren admitted with a heavy sigh. Patiently Donald waited. 

"What? You're not gonna laugh at me and call me a baby?" Darren asked.

"What? No! Why would I do that?" Donald asked. 

"Well...my dad always said said I needed to not cry because...because that's what would happen. Men don't cry. But I do so I must not be a very good man," Darren sighed. 

"No way. You're a great man! Like you got the Admiral to understand that we were still in danger where I couldn't! You fought off Tommy Jenkins where I couldn't and saved me from dying in a dryer! You're totally a great man! Your dad should see you now and piss off with that stupid thought," Donald encouraged. It felt a little hypocritical to say. He had plenty of experience himself even from childhood wondering if he wasn't man enough. If he was born wrong because he wasn't man enough. Because he let Scrooge constantly push the idea of being a strong independent man on him and he wanted that approval from Scrooge so much the way Darren clearly did from his dad. Yep. The sting of hypocrisy. But right now wasn't about him. It was about Darren. Was being a hypocritic so bad if it comforted a friend in need? 

The vague silhouette of his friend moved in the dark in front of him. He seemed to lean forward and hang his head down low. 

"You want me to turn on the light?" Donald offered.

"Um...no thanks." Darren said. 

Quiet settled between the two for some moments. Donald wasn't sure what time it was but it was probably late. After 1 am if he had to guess. The silence started to unnerve him and he wasn't too sure what to do about it. Should they just call it a night? 

"You know how you said a minute ago that my dad should be here to see me? I...I wish that too," Darren said with sadness hanging in the air. Something about it told Donald there was more to that comment than he let one. Carefully he dared to push.

"Why is...why is that?" 

Darren sighed. Donald vaguely saw the dark shape move again. His tall friend, he dare describe him as a gentle giant, was clearly carrying a heavy burden like Atlus. Maybe he could help relieve some of that burden a little. But with Darren's prolonged silence and it started to suggest that Atlus would continue his burden alone. Then he suddenly shared.

"I um....I lost my folks a few months ago. They uh...they were out for the day. Having lunch down town. You know it was just...Just any other day. A normal day and they stopped for lunch after doing errands. That was their routine. And then...gosh I don't know just somehow the restaurant caught on fire. And they were stuck inside. A lot of people died that day not just them but. Gosh it was just so sudden and unexpected...I was at home waiting for them and suddenly the police were arriving instead..." Darren's voice broke into a sob. Donald's heart broke hearing this. Flashbacks of his parents dying and the empty feeling of being all alone despite still having Della and Scrooge tugged at his heart hard. He never forgot that feeling. With time it got easier. But it still stung. And Darren was on his own with this fresh hell. Oh gosh...

"I'm so sorry," Donald said, truly meaning it. He reached out and managed to find Darren's knee. Gently he squeezed it. 

"I just...I felt so miserable. And I still do. My life hasn't been the same since. I was just at home, aimless and lost. Not sure of where I was going or what I was going to do. I worked at a Walmart store but that was...that was all I had going for me. No college or...No ambitions. No plans. Just getting by. Next thing I knew...they were gone. The bank took the house back right away. Suddenly I was...not just aimless but also homeless...alone...more lost than I ever felt," Darren sniffed and choked, trying to not cry again. 

"Oh gosh...What did you do?" Donald asked. 

"I...I stayed with my neighbors. They were always nice people and they offered a room to me. I was still working and paid them the same rent I paid to my parents. Then I got let go!" Darren laughed out in disbelief. "I mean I still can't believe it. My parents just died and they complained about my productivity being down. Like, okay, sure I wasn't doing as good as I could but how could I!? I was...am grieving! I was trying to keep my normal pace and be professional and all but...they still let me go anyway. So I just...I don't know. I went to the mall one day to sell some of my game stuff. Didn't want to but I needed the money. And I looked for a job...ended up finding out about the military. It's crazy but it sounded perfect. I could make money. I could get career opportunities. Help with college even. And honestly...structure. More structure than any other job could give. You know, cause it's a lifestyle not just a job so...I thought getting on a boat, away from my home town. Find a new structure. Life was already fallen to pieces so hey what else was there to lose..." 

A long moment of silence passed with only Darren heaving for breath. Donald heavily related to Darren's pain and his heart ached for him. He couldn't take it anymore and jumped up. In the dark he reached out and found Darren's shoulder and then embraced him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry if this is awkward but I think you need this right now," Donald explained. Darren's body shifted beneath him and returned the hug.

"Yeah...actually I do. Thanks." 

"No problem," Donald said. 

For a sweet long moment the two shared their hug in the dark. No awkwardness. No hard feelings. Just comfort in two friends. When Darren finally pulled away, Donald let go. The two sighed contently. It was a needed kind touch.

"You know I...I kinda wondered about that. If maybe there was uh. Something about parents with you," Donald commented.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. When I showed you those drawings I made of my family. You reacted pretty normal to the grandparents and the cousins but when I showed you my parents you seemed. Well uh freaked out. I meant to ask you about it but I forgot," Donald explained himself.

"Oh yeah. I uh um yeah I did jump a little huh? I'm sorry it's just that it's still a sore subject for me. Being reminded of them is. Uh...I know it's unavoidable. And that I'll have to move on eventually. It's just...um..."

"It's still so new and it hurts so much. That even if someone told you to just get over it, you wouldn't be able to. Cause that's just not how it works."

"Wow. You do get it," Darren marveled. 

Yeah. You know I. I lost mine too. In an accident. Just for me it's been longer so it's not quite as bad anymore."

"But it does get better?"

"I guess sorta. I still miss them. It still hurts to think about them most of the time. But at the same time it still doesn't hurt like it did. So yeah I guess so." 

"Wow...alright. Um. Appreciate that," Darren said.

"Are you okay now though?" Donald asked

"Yeah...I think so. You're uh...you're not embarrassed by me?" 

"Wait what? Why would I be?" 

"Because I totally cried like a baby," Darren said. Even if the pitch black, Donald could see the reddening of his embarrassed face.

"Hey. No. Never. And, if I can tell you a secret," Donald lowered his voice like child whispering a secret. "I cry sometimes too. It's okay."

"Really? Cause my dad-"

"Your dad was wrong. It's okay to cry. Healthy even. Don't feel like you can't. I hope he meant well in saying that but he was wrong. It's okay to cry," Donald encouraged. An irritating bug bite sensation went for him again. The sting of hypocrisy again. He HATED that he cried so much and it made him feel so ridiculously weak. But again, is it wrong to be a hypocrite if it comforted a friend? Hopefully it wasn't too bad. Still couldn't see anything and it was starting to get annoying but Donald didn't flip on the light. Instead he flopped back onto his bed with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry to bug you."

"Nooo. I promise you didn't. In fact...Darren I'm the one who's sorry," Donald sat back up as he spoke those words.

"What for?"

"Well, for the other day. You did nothing wrong. I just...I'm really insecure. I have issues. I need to work on them and I can't really do that from the navy but...but afterwards when I'm moved out and have my nice secure job, I'm gonna get the best therapist I can. I don't wanna be this way forever. I'm tired of it. I shouldn't have lashed out at you for trying to help me just because I felt bad and insecure about myself for not being able to stand up to Tommy. And I'm really sorry for that. And...also thank you. For saving me back there," Donald said, his face feeling a bit warm with embarrassment again. It was still frustrating he lost that fight but again he quietly told himself it would be okay. Lost the battle, win the war. Don't be sorry. Be better. 

"You already said all that earlier," Darren pointed out.

"I know but. But I mean it. I need to do better. Not just lash out and feel sorry for myself. So again. I'm sorry. And thank you rescuing me."

"You're welcome. And. I uh..it's okay Donald. I forgive you," Darren said. 

The air in the room felt so much lighter. Donald wouldn't have been surprised if either of them started floating, crazy as that sounded. It was so relieving getting that off both of their chests.

"So really...we're all good?" Darren asked.

"I'm sure," Donald replied honestly.

"You promise?"

"I promise." 

"Okay. I promise then too." 

Donald was about to reply when out came a yawn instead. Followed by Darren yawning too.

"Well I think that's a sign the universe wants us to go back to bed," Donald lightly joked.

"Don't need a sign to tell me," Darren chuckled as another yawn escaped him.

"Alright. Uh, goodnight Darren."

"Goodnight Donald." 

In a swift moment Donald was back under his thin blanket and head laying back down on the plain pillow. Tiredness coursed his body but his mind buzzed with activity. He was feeling a lot of things but probably the biggest was relief. All his thoughts from the past few days came back to him again. But he apologized and it was accepted. Still not much in progress for his long term goal but he was so happy and relieved this one simple thing went well. There was still a long ways to go for his plan. He was still after all only 22 and not even 2 weeks into a 4 year military contract. But oh boy oh boy oh boy. He was sure if he just stuck with it through the ups and downs, his plan would come to fruition. Then he could live a better life and be a better person. Not a rich and famous type, just a good man with a good life. If he stuck with it, he could make it. 

Sadly for him Donald had no idea just how hard life could throw itself at him and add more twists and turns than he ever realized possible. No way of knowing what craziness the future held in store for him and his family. The gentle waves lulled him into sleep. But bigger waves were coming.

* * *

August 15th, 2004

  
After almost 10 months at sea, the USN-87 was a mere hours away from returning to land! Donald was shaking with excitement. He had no way of getting ahold of Scrooge and Della until arriving back on land but he contemplated simply surprising them. After all he had his car in the recruits garage he could just drive himself back. Ahhhh he couldn't wait to see them! Sitting down at the lunch table was difficult because he was just so darn excited! Tristan was currently going on about possibly trying to get in touch with a girl from high school that he never confessed feelings for with Darren and Travis paying a bit better attention than Donald was. It had only been announced this morning by the Admiral. That indeed the ship had been turned back towards the mainland and they would be home tonight! Tonight!!! Donald couldn't wait! 

Travis was now going on about going to a restaurant in downtown Duckburg that served home style southern food. Not as good as his mama's, but close. How he was totally hitting up that place tonight and treating himself to a big meal. 

It was then Donald's turn to speak on what he was going to do. With a big grin he simply said

"I'm just gonna home and see my family. I miss them so much." 

Everyone nodded in agreement. Travis commented on how he'd love to see his folks again too but they were back down South as well were Tristan's parents so he wasn't sure if getting to go see them was a possibility. Then again, they were going to have a whole month on land. A whole month!

All eyes fell to Darren on what he'd do for the month. He shrank away under their eyes, uncomfortable with their stares.

"I uh. I honestly don't know," he said simply. 

"Isn't there someone you can go home to?" Tristan asked. The pained look in Darren's eyes immediately struck them all in the heart. Tristan immediately felt huge guilt for even asking. In the months following the initial few weeks of enlistment, the 4 had become much closer which at one point did include Darren mentioning his family's death. But Tristan clearly hadn't realized he meant the death of his only family. 

"I don't know I was kinda just thinking I'd go back to my neighbor's place. Give them a little more money for their kindness, help around the house more need be. That kind of thing. I uh. I don't really know. I still don't have a home of my own so maybe I can look for a place that houses soldiers. I just. I don't know...." Darren stated, obviously feeling down by this. 

And in that moment Donald made a decision that unknowingly to him, created a domino effect on his life. One that would result in some of the worst but also easily the best things that ever happened to him.

"You could stay with me."

All eyes went wide with disbelief. Did he just say that? Did Donald really just offer a room in the home of Scrooge McDuck? 

"Donald, that's crazy nice of you but oh my gosh no it's okay. I'll be okay. Besides I don't want to get you into any trouble with Scrooge..." 

"Aw phooey what's the worst that could happen?" Donald brushed off his friend's fears.

"I mean, I could think of several things," Darren stated. 

"Aw come on man ya should totally do it! I bet the rooms are nicer than a spot under a shady tree on a hot day!" Travis encouraged. 

"Yeah! You deserve a break as much as any of us," Tristan also encouraged.

"Nah...I'll be okay guys. But thanks," Darren said flatly. The conversation was dropped but Donald wasn't letting it go. 

"Well Travis, I for one think we should call up my parents and see if they'll fly us back down even if it's only for a week," Tristan resumed talking. Donald looked back up at the duck who's hair feathers seemed to naturally slick back without any product. His city accent and cool guy style yet easy going vibe was weirdly comforting. Tristan had said his business minded family moved from the city to the country, chasing oil. Which was how he met Travis. The chicken was country through and through, red hair like a rooster but white feathers like a chicken. Accent and unique phrases to boot. Almost weird that the two opposites could be such close friends but hey, opposites attract after all. 

"Aw dang! Ya think they'd do that?" Travis asked.

"I mean they're rich so they have no excuse to not to..." Tristan said with a hint of venom. 

Yeah. They're rich. _He's_ rich. _Scrooge_ was rich. There was no reason why Scrooge couldn't let Donald have his friend over. Like a really long sleepover party. Not that Donald ever had many of those ever since his childhood. Not many friends to stay around since Mickey moved to Mouseton and Goofy moved to Spoonerville. Surely he could convince the old man to let a soldier in need to stay. 

Lunch wrapped up and off to their last tasks for the day they all went. At dinner time the Admiral came down to the mess hall announcing in less than an hour they'd hit land! Cheers flew up into the air! 

"Now now gentlemen, this will be a month long R&R or Rest and Recoup. You will be expected back by 6am on September 5th, and not a minute later. You got that?"

"Sir yes sir!" 

"Alright now. Enjoy your time off men. Be careful out there. Remember, this is time to rest so avoid stressing yourselves and overworking yourselves as much as you can. Everything you have done these past 10 months has been in service of the United States and your country thanks you. This break is well earned. And on September 5th, be ready to do it all over again. Am I clear?" 

"Sir yes sir!" 

"Dismissed gentlemen!"

The mess hall was filled with lively sounds as the men returned to eating their food. Various chatters of excitement and plans buzzed all about. They talked about the things they'd do once they got home. Excitement to see family. Dread to see family. Crude comments of ways to spend time and activities to do followed by immature laughs. Happiness to see pets again. All sorts of conversation was alive in the mess hall. 

"I'm gonna miss y'all while we on break. But it'll be good to be gone. Need a break from mah sea legs," Travis chuckled.

"Yeah don't miss us too much. We'll be back," Donald also chuckled. 

"Don't say your goodbyes yet. We still gotta pack," Tristan said as he stood up with his tray. Donald realized he had emptied his tray too and got up. 

"Yeah. Not much to pack I guess but might as well get going," he said. 

"Cool, I'll be by shortly," Darren said with a wave. Travis gave a thumbs up as he took another bite from his food. Donald waved back and he and Tristan headed back for their quarters. The two walked in comfortable silence until Donald reached his quarters. The two said brief goodbyes and Tristan headed for his room alone. 

The small room devoid of personality took far less time to clean than his room at Scrooge's before leaving for college and the dorm at college when he graduated had been. No posters to take down, only cold metal walls. No crumbs in the carpet to vacuum from snacking late in the night. Just cold metal floors that hardly had dust let alone dirt or any other filth. No plaid shirts or graphic tees with dumb jokes or band logos thrown about. Only uniforms with the only identifier was the small "Duck, D" tag sewn by the heart, neatly folded on a small shelf by the bed. So different yet still so similar. Granted this was only a temporary leave. But it felt so strange. Like every transition in his life, going home for the first time in so long felt so different. He felt like he had grown, matured, was a better man. But then again every time he also seemed to always still be the same toxic mess...gosh was he just kidding himself? Was he gonna go home and still be same old screw-up he has been? The one with all the bad luck and the worst temper of all? Ugh oh no. Insecurity came rushing in once again, flooding his brain. 

A knock at the door distracted him, in walked Darren who immediately recognized something was wrong.

"Are you okay Donald?" 

"Yeah. I just...gosh I just...I don't feel like I've improved any. I haven't been home in 10 months. I'm 23 now. I'll have a little bit of money but I'm gonna need to fix my car...I just...ugh I don't know. I feel like a complete failure," Donald groaned. Darren nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets, standing awkwardly.

"I...I. I don't really know what to say. Other then I get it. I really do Donald. I feel the same way. But my mom always liked to say, uh well uh. She was a gardener, see? Really liked to grow plants and flowers. And she was really good at it! And I uh...gosh when I was. A little after graduating high school, I didn't have a plan. Couldn't figure out what to do with myself. They wanted me to go to college but I've just never been able to figure what I'm gonna do. And one day I was still trying to figure out what do with myself and my mom took me out to her garden. She showed me her roses, gardenias, pansies, gosh she had a lot of different types. Anyway uh. She showed me ones that were fully bloomed. And showed me ones that were little sprouts still very young. My mom told me that I uh. I'm thinking too much like I'm already in bloom when I'm still just a sprout. I know it sounds like one of those things that parents tell their kids but...it was nice to hear. And I've been trying to get myself to uh. To let myself be a sprout ever since." 

Thinking on those words Donald nodded and looked down at his feet. Was where he stood just part of his growth too? Or was he planted and fully grown, now withering away having done nothing? Was he a poisonous flower? Oh good lord Donald stop! Stop it stop it stop! Stop thinking about yourself like this man! So dumb and edgy! It's not helping! Gosh your friend tries to give you encouragement and you gotta be all weird about it!! Knock it off! 

Donald slammed his duffle bag down on the bad with a hard thud as if to stop the thoughts in their tracks. It worked for a moment at least. 

"Um. Thanks Darren," he said.

"I get it it's not easy to accept. I still have issues with it too, I can't believe in myself some of the time. Especially right now since I don't have a home to go back to or anything to show for myself. But I'm really trying to believe. For my parents. And for me." 

It sounded so brave and nobel the way Darren said it. Awe inspiring even. He sighed, inferiority trying to claw its way up his spine but he shook himself. No! No more bad thoughts! Don't be sorry! Be better!

He turned his focus back on to his duffle bag. He had changed back into the outfit he wore when he first arrived all those months ago, a plaid shirt and black shorts. Again, pants are no fun! All of his uniforms were packed, ready to be turned in at the front office when he signed out. All the letters from Della he received, folded and neatly put away for safe keeping. And his journals he brought were safely packed as well. Donald pulled out the top journal and flipped it open, grabbing a pen as well from the bag pocket. 

"Look Darren. Let me at least try to ask Scrooge if you can stay with us for a while okay? You don't wanna show up at the door without permission, fine. But let me ask him. I'll call you when I know it's okay. Just write down your neighbor's number for me, okay?" Donald said as he held up the journal. Darren gave the journal a bit of a look. Donald waved it a little expectantly.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Cause I..." 

"...because you?"

Darren fell completely silent and hung his head. Shut down like a robot. Donald sighed.

"Look. You don't have to come. Okay? If I call you and you don't want to, don't come. Just...give me a chance to do something for you okay?"

Darren met Donald's eyes, a slight glassy look to his own. With a heavy sigh he picked up the pen and wrote down a name and number.

"This is them. If you ask for me they'll pass it along or otherwise take a message. But don't call me unless it really is okay. I don't uh. I don't want to be...well..." 

"A burden," Donald answered knowingly. Shock crossed over his friend's face. Clearly being understood was unfamiliar to him. Donald knew the feeling all too well. 

"I promise I won't call if it would be a problem with Scrooge. He's rich and the mansion is huge so I mean it shouldn't be. But still. I promise," Donald said. Darren shakily nodded his head. The two shared weak smiles. It would be okay.

"I uh should finish packing and getting ready," Darren said

"Yeah yeah of course. I'll just leave you to it then," Donald replied. He turned back to his own bag and packed away the journal. Then he stripped the bedding and ran it out to the great big laundry cart in the hallway as Captain Kouri had instructed early. And Darren was changed into a normal outfit. A long sleeve button up with some jeans. 

Soon both ducks were finished and the quarter was clear. Captain Kouri came by for a physical inspection. 

"Looks good to go gentlemen. Enjoy your time off. Remember, back by 6 am on September 5th. Don't forget it." 

"Sir yes sir!" They both cried. 

"Alright you two. Head for the main deck. We'll be arriving shortly." 

Shortly indeed. The sky was very dark when the two made it up on deck but the lights from the boat helped them see. In the distance lights on the shore could be seen! They were so close to home! The wind whipped about wildly bringing a chill to the air. It nipped Donald's ears and felt cold in his nostrils but it was so fresh and clean he had in take a deep breath of it. His eyes looked up to the faint lights so far above them. A clear evening meant it was much easier to see the stars although identifying them wasn't quite as easy tonight. Della would love this view. She'd geek out over it for sure. Let's see...that one glowing dot was probably Jupiter...

"Hey y'all!" Travis called out. Tristan waved as he and Travis caught up to Donald and Darren. It was different seeing them in regular clothing. Tristan sporting a polio and skinny jeans with expensive looking sneakers and Travis in just an old worn tee with some faded logo on it and fairly weathered blue jeans with boots. 

"Ready to go?" Tristan flashed a charismatic grin. Dang he was good at that. Such a charmer. 

"Yeah I guess," Darren replied. 

"I am," Travis grinned. Donald simply nodded. His eyes went back to the shore that seemed inch ever so slightly closer. But closer was closer and closer meant home. Felt a little weird to be saying goodbye to the ship though. Heh. That reminded him of a song. Softly he began to sing. 

"I thought I heard the Old Man say  
"Leave her, Johnny, leave her."  
Tomorrow you will get your pay,  
And it's time for us to leave her.  
Leave her, Johnny, leave her!  
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her!  
For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow  
And it's time for us to leave her..."

From the corner of his eye he realized he had drawn stares. Mostly from his friends but a few others also had stopped. Oh great. They heard that. Of course they did. Hard to miss the sound of a dying animal. 

"No no! Keep goin'!" Travis encouraged.

"You've got uh quite the voice there," Tristan added with a thumbs up. Donald gave them all a side eyed glare.

"I know how I sound..." 

"And ya sing anyway. That's pretty brave. I don't got that much courage in me," Travis commented. 

"Yeah! Who cares if you sound good or bad? Who's to judge? I'm sure someone out there would love how you sound man. Keep doing it!" Tristan added.

"Oh someone but not you," Donald teased. Tristan shrugged. 

"Maybe not but maybe I could learn to love it too," he said. 

"I like it! I'm used to it now," Darren smiled as he spoke. He'd heard a bit more than the others as Donald sometimes broke into song in their room. 

"Aw shucks such high praise you guys," Donald chuckled his face turning a little red from either their comments or the fierce wind. Not sure which. Just then a thundering blare from the ship's horn sounded. Donald turned back to the shore unable to believe his eyes! They were back! Oh gosh they were back which meant he was almost home! Cheers from the soldiers rose like a fire on the waves! 

The Admiral came above deck once again prompting everyone to stop and salute. Once again he reminded everyone when they were to return by and to check out at the front desk before leaving and turn in all uniforms. And without further ado, gentlemen go forth! The walkway lowered and cheers rose again! The mass of men moved. Everyone headed down and towards the office buildings. Donald continued to chat with his pals when a harsh shove got him from behind causing him to fall. With a squawk Donald tumbled to the ground. His friends surrounded him. As he looked up an unfortunate familiar sight beheld him. The angry glare of Tommy Jenkins.

"Watch it freak. I'm gonna get you," he threatened. 

"Yeah yeah you've been saying that and doing nothing. Whatever," Donald snapped back as he got up.

"Come on Donald let's just go," Travis encouraged, his voice quaking with fear.

"Awww the little chicken is afraid, how cute. Run on home little chicken!" Owen barked harshly. Ken just laughed and cracked his knuckles.

"No. You're not gonna threaten me or my friends and we're not gonna fight you either. We're going home," Donald proudly stated and turned his back. Confidently he lead his friends away from the stunned trio of bullies. As they walked further away Jenkins tried to recover by laughing and mocking Donald's voice but it went unnoticed by the passersbys. A little smirk made it way across Donald's beak. This wasn't the end of it but these past months Donald had clearly been the winner of the war. 

A long line for the front desks meant a bit of standing and waiting for the co. They stood around talking and waiting and occasionally yawning. Donald hoped Della and Scrooge wouldn't be asleep when he arrived. It would be late though by the time he'd get back. Ugh. Oh well. 

Travis particularly seemed upset and shaken up though, having been rather quiet. Tristan pushed lightly into the issue.

"Uh just this darn wind. I'm cold. Don't know how you boys can stand this," he replied with chattering teeth. 

"Travis what's the real truth..." Donald pushed further. Travis muttered under his breath and hung his head in shame.

"As if being a chicken wasn't bad enough I gotta be a transparent one at that," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" Darren asked.

"I just...oh it's no use. I'm a chicken."

"We know Travis," Tristan joked.

"Dangit Tristan you know darn well what I meant."

"I'm sorry. Please continue."

"I just...I'm a coward. I'm not brave. All this time in knowing y'all I ain't been brave once. And just now when that darn Tommy started threatenin' Donald again, I was scared outta my mind. And Donald you just brushed them off like they was nothing more than hay on your boots. Every time you deal with those jerks you handle it like it's no problem. And I'm too scared to even look at 'em. What was I thinkin', joining the Navy...I don't belong here. I know I'd get in big trouble for this but...Maybe I shouldn't come back." 

The three shared sad looks as Travis crossed his arms and looked embarrassed staring at the dirt. 

"You came out here with me to start a new life for yourself Travis. Cause everyone always told you that you were too dumb to make it anywhere. That you could never have your own farm. You wanted to show them that you were strong and capable and independent like your dad. Able to run your own farm just fine. Prove that you're a strong capable man! Just like I am trying to prove to my parents. That just cause they're rich doesn't mean I'm gonna rely on them and their money. I'll make my own way! I'm going to college when this is all done and I'll be my own successful business man! And you are gonna go home and take this money you earned and pride and accomplishment from serving and start your own farm. You got that? I believe in you!" Tristan confidently stated. Travis sighed then slowly raised his eyes back up to the three ducks before him.

"Alright..." he shyly said. 

"So I better be seeing you back here in one month, you got that? Don't make me hunt you down. I will come for you like a fox!" Tristan egged on further. 

"And that goes for the two of you too!" He said as he whipped around to face Donald and Darren better. 

"I know you two dudes and I don't got the same childhood history Travis and I got. But you both better have your butts back here. You got debts to get paid off and then a successful career to rock. And you! I know you feel lost and don't have a plan. But you're gonna show them all that you're capable. You're gonna open doors for yourself. You're gonna prove if you could make it 4 years in the Navy you can make it anywhere! So if either of aren't here either rest assured I will find you and drag you back here by your tail feathers! Got me!?" 

"Sir yes sir!" Donald and Darren simultaneously replied half joking half completely serious. Travis was now laughing a bit and Tristan smiled, happy to have done some good for his friend.

"Alright buddy I'll be here I promise," Travis said between laughs. 

"Me too!"

"And me three!" 

"Alright good," Tristan laughed. 

With the mood lightened the four continued to talk and wait until finally the lines moved to where they all could get assisted. Complete uniforms turned in and assigned to leave. Also pick up his car keys. Very important. Donald stepped into the rest room real quick after being signed out. While washing his hands Donald got a look at himself in the mirror. Crazy to think how less than a year ago he had been in this exact same room. Shaving his head for the first time. Putting on that camouflage uniform for the first time. Staring at himself in the mirror feeling so ugly and hating what he saw for the millionth time. But now 10 months later a new first for him. He truly liked what he saw in the mirror. Not just how he physically looked but how he felt. He looked strong, he felt strong. His muscles gained greater protruding quality to them and refined shape. He flexed and dang! Wow he looked good! Guess he hadn't really noticed before this moment but he liked what he saw. For this beautiful moment the usual doubts and self attacks were gone. No worries of scars and capabilities. No vocal issues to outcry his confidence. No bullies to drag him to their level. It was as Darren said earlier. They weren't yet fully bloomed. But dang if this was growth, how stunning would full bloom be? 

Not to be vain or overly confident but wow he looked great and felt great. He'd gotten much better at shaving his head so the recent buzzcut was nice and even. His muscles as already noted were so much more toned and stronger than before. Even his posture he noticed was a proper soldier's back straight and head up. It was far more confident than his head down and slumped shoulders stance he had previously. Dang he felt good. Surely Scrooge and Della would notice this. Maybe even be a little impressed. Maybe he was coming home a better man than he thought before. Not finished but with stronger roots and better growth.

But alright. Enough of that. Because speaking of Scrooge and Della. Time to get home to them. 

Donald made his way back outside and joined up with the three friends of his. They joined together in a group hug because why not. It felt great honestly. 

"See you all soon," Donald promised. 

The four made a few more jokes and goodbyes and then went off their separate ways. Donald made the long walk to the parking garage where his car was, alone but not unhappy. Unlocking the door and climbing in, Donald got the groaning engine to start up.

"I know I know you need some work. Just please get me home," Donald muttered to the machinery. Thankfully mercy was with him and the old vehicle began to drive without much other problem.

The drive back was long but the nearly nonexistent late night traffic helped a little at least. Just a long stretch of highway between him and home. The ancient radio didn't have the strongest signal strength but it was enough it helped the time go by just that bit faster. And thankfully just as he started to legitimately feel tired, he was arriving back on to the top of Killmotor Hill. Hopping out quickly to unlock the gate and back in to drive through then back out to lock it behind him, Donald felt the tiredness give away. Replaced easily by giddiness. Excitement. Happiness. All good things as he got parked into his parking spot and grabbed his duffle bag with a jump out of the car. He almost couldn't even breathe from how excited he was. He made and attempt to steady himself and then with shaking hands used the knocker. 

Some moments passed but before he could feel unease, the knob turned. The door swung open and stood there was Duckworth. The dog butler grew a great big grin on his face.

"Master Donald! What a most unexpected but most welcome surprise!" Duckworth happily greeted Donald, going in for the rare Duckworth hug. Donald happily returned it.

"It's so good to see you too Duckworth. Are Scrooge and Della up?"

"I believe so. Wait here, I shall fetch them," Duckworth gestured at Donald to stay as he walked over to the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh Mr. McDuck! Master Della! I have an urgent matter that must be attended to!" The British butler politely but firmly called. He shot Donald a wink. Donald returned it. His smile wanted to stretch further than his face would let him! 

Moments later feet hit the marble and soft accented grumbling came into earshot.

"What's all this Duckworth," the Scot asked as he reached the bottom step.

"Yeah we gotta finish these translations-" Della began before stopping dead in her tracks. Scrooge looked expectantly at Duckworth. Della looked in disbelief at Donald. His smile continued to grow, seeing her standing there in a set of a pajama dress and pants and Scrooge in his blue frock coat and a pair of slippers instead his usual spats. Curiously enough Scrooge also had a large white cast going over his right hand. Della tugged at Scrooge's coat and pointed directly at Donald. Scrooge's eyes finally went to directly in front of him, gasping loudly when he did.

"Uncle Scrooge. Della. I'm home." 

A long silence passed as Scrooge and Della stared in shock. Donald awkwardly set his duffle bag down. Before he could full stand back up he was knocked back with a slamming thud.   
"Owww," he groaned.

"Oh my gosh so you're not just an apparition brought about by my missing you! You're really home!" Della hollered excitedly. Her arms tightened around his torso.

"Yep...R&R...one month," he choked out.

"A whole month! Ahhh! Oh my gosh I'm so happy! I've missed you!" She cried out with a great big smile on her face as she somehow made her hug even tighter. He groaned again and she laughed.

"Aw come on you know you missed this," she teased. 

"Yeahhh," he choked out. His arms managed to get around her torso and squeezed too. 

"Alright Della stop tryin' teh squeeze yer brother like yer a snake," Scrooge said as he approached the hugging twins. Della whined but let go of Donald. 

"Let's have a look at ya lad," Scrooge said offering up his left hand to help Donald up. Donald graciously accepted, gripping Scrooge's hand well as he got up.

"Bless me bagpipes lad. I get it's me left hand and not me right but you've got some muscle now!" Scrooge exclaimed. 

"Donald has always been the brawn," Della argued.

"Aye but goodness lad what have they done to ya?" Scrooge said, shaking his hand like it was a business thing. Donald chuckled. 

"Lots of daily cleaning and tasks around the ship. And on days where we didn't do that we'd be doing exercises and weapons firing and handling. There's a lot of exercise stuff in that armory ugh I can still smell it," he added with a groan. Too enclosed of a space for so much sweat smell. 

"Sounds awesome! And yeah wow! Look at this beef you got! I thought you were feeling tougher but for a second I thought I was just imagining it from the lack of hugs. Awww wait awesome idea. You and me Donnie. Boxing match. Come oooon I can still take you!" Della egged on. 

"Nooo. I'm tired," Donald protested. 

"Alright fine. You're off the hook for tonight mister. But imma get you before you go back and that is a threat!" 

"Ya need anything lad?" Scrooge offered.

"No just uh..."

 _I really really need a hug and validation from you_.

"I just need some sleep." 

"Oh. Uh. Alright lad. Get some rest. Tomorrow yer helping me and Della figure out these blasted runes. Can't get the rambunctious rubble into English." 

Donald nodded thinking it'd be good to get some exercise for his brain in and let his muscles have a rest. He scooped back up his duffle bag and took a look at Della, Scrooge, and Duckworth. It was great to see them again, really. As much as they could all lead to him feeling intense anger and frustration and even sadness at times, he loved them all and missed them dearly. A yawn escaped him. 

"Ugh. I'm sorry it's not much of a reunion party but I'm beat. I'm gonna go to bed now," Donald said. Another yawn further proved his point.

"No worries lad. We're just excited that you'll be here in the mornin'," Scrooge said with a soft smile. The moment was such a rare tender moment that Donald didn't want it to end. It was a source of constant frustration in him that Della clearly Scrooge's favorite. He was so much more affectionate and kind to her. Moments like these were more rare between the uncle and nephew. And they were treasured. The dark and painful thoughts that often clouded Donald's mind worked so hard to make him forget these moments. Make them seem like flukes or fantasies instead of reality. He really didn't want this to end but yet another yawn left him. It would end soon with or without him. He looked to his uncle who seemed to awkwardly be wanting to say or do something. Aw phooey. Donald wanted a hug. He was getting his hug. 

He stepped closer to Scrooge and scooped him into a tight hug.

"Ack lad! Not so tight! I already have one broken bone!" Scrooge protested. Donald ever so slightly lightened up. For a long moment Donald held Scrooge tightly without any other reaction from the old man. Then ever so slowly Scrooge wrapped his arms around Donald too and squeezed. 

"Awwwwww," Della loudly admired. 

The two ignored her though. This moment was for them. No offense Della. But this was for them. For this beautiful moment Donald felt loved and validated. Years of pain and hurting and doubt gone for this brief period of time. And Scrooge as well for this moment dropped his guard. That need to always be strong. To need to be a man who was stoic and the mister powerful in the room. To lead by example of being so strong and independent. The fear that he was doing wrong by his sister and her husband's memory by "replacing" them as a parent figure to their...and his...kids. He wasn't Scrooge McDuck for this moment. He was a man blessed enough to see his and hold his nephew slash son again. It meant more than all the money in his bin. 

Why did moments like these have to be so rare? Why was this so hard to achieve more regularly? How many times had Donald gone for a hug only to be denied? How many times had Scrooge gone to put a comforting hand on the lad only to be brushed away or ignored? The thoughts barged both of their minds. Why was this such a continuous cycle in their relationship? Maybe now into adulthood things could change? Maybe Donald wouldn't have to love Scrooge and Della from afar like he thought? Maybe they could work things out? 

Life was and is and always will be difficult and unpredictable. Relationships always will present obstacles to overcome or walk away from. Donald always thought the answer would be to walk away. All this time away though made him start to have second thoughts. Maybe just maybe things could be taken to a better path together. 

Oh if only Donald knew the way life would pull them all apart and back together. 

Scrooge and Donald slowly pulled apart from their long hug. Scrooge coughed a little and resisted his usual brushing a hug off with a handshake because we're men thing he normally did. No instead the two smiled fondly at one another.

"It's good to have ya back."

"It's good to be back." 

"Well...ya best get some rest. Gonna need those brains and muscles of yers. Call it yer rent."

"Oh boy."

"Heh...oh it won't be anything too terrible. But yer not getting a complete vacation either lad!" 

"Alright Uncle Scrooge. I'll be ready."

"Good lad! See ya tomorrow. Duckworth! What say you about making a special breakfast since Donald is back?"

"Very good sir I shall make it happen." 

"Excellent," Scrooge said with another smile as he looked at Donald again. Della walked up behind him and wrapped her arms gently over one of his shoulders and over his torso with the other. The twins smiled at each other. Yes. This was a thing of beauty. His family back home together. Della yawned as well. 

"Yeah I'm gonna go to bed to Uncle Scrooge," she said. 

"Alright kids. See you tomorrow." 

"Goodnight Uncle Scrooge," the twins said in tired unison. They slowly trekked upstairs together, Della clinging to Donald's arm and Donald wearily holding himself up by the handrail. Scrooge and Duckworth both smiled watching the sight. 

Later in the night Scrooge made his way back towards his bedroom. He passed Donald's room as he walked by and peaked through the open door. Sleeping soundly and still clinging to each other were Della and Donald. They looked exactly like they did as children, clutching each other and sleeping side by side. It was a more common site when the two first arrived under his care. Then slowly it was less and less seen until eventually the two were always sleeping in their own rooms. But it was heartwarming to see their bond was still so strong and that they needed each other. His heart felt warm watching his kids sleep. Precious things. This family needs each other. They have to stick together. Sure he and Donald seemed to fight a lot more often than not and Donald seemed a little too eager to leave. But maybe whatever it was that lad was looking for, Scrooge could help him find. He sighed to himself as he turned back to the long hallway to his room. If only he knew how to get through to him. These kids were both his pride and joy even more so than the whole of McDuck Enterprises. He'd give up the whole company and all his money if he had to for them. If there was no other option that is. And also don't tell them that. It was a secret. Never let them know your weaknesses. Not even those you trust. Especially those you trust.

Gah. What was he doing? Being so paranoid. What an old fool he turned out to be. 

* * *

Duckworth prepared a stunning breakfast in the morning. The best pancakes anyone could ever make. Delicious fish bacon and fish eggs scrambled. Fresh fruit. Rich coffee with the perfect touch of cream. The mouthwatering smell was incredibly inviting. Donald resisted the urge to scarf it all down. No offense to the ship's primary cook at all, the guy was pretty good actually. But nothing could beat Duckworth's cooking. Always made Donald wonder just how on earth he was so darn good. 

After breakfast Scrooge asked Donald to assist with the runes he and Della had trouble translating. The three spent some time on the project before Della decided it was time to take a brain break and go work on her plane. When she left the room, Donald spied Scrooge scratching at his cast. 

"How'd that happen?" He asked. 

"Gah. Last adventure was a real bust. Long climb up these blasted mountains and through a dangerous cave with overgrown mountain lions. Blasted cats. Hand broke when I got slammed against the wall by one of them. And worst of all no treasure! The only thing in that damn chest was these runes! Waste of our time..." Scrooge sighed heavily and sipped his tea. He took a long look down at the runes and back up to Donald. 

"I know ya have to do yer military thing. But we miss having ya out there. I know ya...get frustrated and struggle. Sometimes. With adventures. But it's in yer blood lad. Yer as good as Della and I. Maybe someday even...better. Don't tell her I said that," Scrooge quickly added that last sentence with a point from his cane. 

"Hate it that I do. I'm getting older. Unless I run off back to the Castle, I won't live forever. But living with me father again might kill me so," he chuckled to himself. Donald seemed invested in what he was saying, his hands propping up his head like when he was a child. A small glint in his eye, that spark of adventure, clearly shined.

Oh Donald, I wish I knew how to tell ya. Quackmore may be you kids' father but I...I hope you two have come to see me as your dad. As I've come to see you trouble makers as my own.

"Just I...I know it's what ya say you don't want to do with yer life. But I hope ya won't give up on adventuring entirely. And yer sister...no. We still need ya around," Scrooge finished with a tightened grip on his cane and a hint of a sad smile. Donald looked down with a sigh.

"I. Um...I'll think about it," Donald replied. 

"Good enough lad. And um thank ya. For yer consideration," Scrooge said. He reached over and patted Donald on the shoulder. 

"I've. Ehem. I don't think I've ever really said how proud I am of ya. Ya have really gone out there and tried. Tried to make it on yer own. 'Nd I haven't given ya enough credit for that. I'm sorry for that. I'm uh. A paranoid old fool I guess. Don't show my affections enough." 

Donald nearly cried at that. The sensation of tears nearly overwhelmed him. He jumped up and pulled Scrooge into a hug. The Scot let out a shocked yelp but leaned into the hug easily. Tenderly he held him back. The sun's warmth did nothing to make the room feel warmer. Familial love was in the air. Some long moments passed as the two quietly and contently hugged before slowly pulling apart. They both smiled at each other. That was nice. Really really nice. They needed to make this happen more often.

"Ehem. Uh. How about a game? Kill a little time while Della works on the plane. Maybe after lunch the three of us can work on the runes some more?"

"Okay Uncle Scrooge."

It made Scrooge's heart flutter to hear his dear nephew use his title. Something he didn't hear as often as Donald got older. Della always called him Uncle Scrooge. It was as natural as if it was his full name. Donald had used it as a child. Into adulthood though it was dropped for the more flatly stated "Scrooge." Just Scrooge. Not cold but not warm either. Just holding him out of arms reach. Enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The rare times of actually hearing "Uncle Scrooge" filled him with love. 

"How about a nice round of Scroogeopoly?" 

"Not on your life."

"Aw come now lad it's not that bad." 

"I think Duckworth is still finding game pieces and fake dollars in the living room from how much mess we all made screaming at each other."

".....fair point." 

"How about Scrabble?"

"How about chess and then Scrabble?" 

"Okay Uncle Scrooge." 

Sometime later the two had gotten the game set up and going. Donald was clearly losing. Again. Surprisingly though he wasn't getting frustrated with the loss. For once in the greatest of whiles he just seemed happy to be playing. 

"So Uncle Scrooge. I have a question."

"Yes lad?" 

"I made a friend in the military-"

"A friend? Aw good for ya lad. Hopefully not as noisy as those two hooligans from college."

"José and Panchito."

"Yes yes them. So this friend?" 

"Well. He's uh. Doesn't really have a place to stay right now. I was wondering if he could stay with us for the R&R time."

Scrooge paused as he held his piece in his fingers. Unusual request. 

"Um..." 

"Please Uncle Scrooge?" 

"I'd like to meet this lad first."

"Okay. I'll arrange a lunch in town."

"Yer paying fer it."

"Yeah I know." 

"Alright. I'll let ya know sometime afterwards."

"Okay. Thanks Uncle Scrooge."

"Yer welcome lad. Also. Checkmate."

"What!? How?!" 

* * *

A lunch did soon happen some days after Donald first arrived home. Donald picked up Darren in his little beater green car and Scrooge arrived separately in his limo. It went well, with Darren trying so hard to not overly geek out. Scrooge was someone he idolized! And he was a part of what inspired his favorite books! This was so exciting! 

Scrooge had a few strange questions for Darren which made Donald sigh. No Scrooge he's not associated with Glomgold. Or any of your other rivals. But Scrooge brushed that off. Insisting he had to hear it for himself. Surprisingly Darren didn't take offense to the questions. If anything he seemed to understand. When Scrooge's questions ended, Darren's began.

"What's it like being the only person who's ever seen The Lost Temple of the Camerot People?" 

"How did you survive in the Frozen Wilds?" 

"Which is more cursed? The Hope Diamond or the Blood Diamond. Both are definitely cursed but the names have me wondering."

"What causes the natural weirdness tendencies of Gravity Falls?"

"What's a mystery you have yet to solve?" 

The questions filled Scrooge with delight and made him laugh. 

"Fancy yerself a bit of an adventurer?" Scrooge asked the excitable duck.

"Oh I wish. Sadly my only real adventures have been books and games and joining the military. Not much else," Darren replied with a shrug.

"Hmm. I think we're going to have to change that! I see a spark in yer eyes Darren. It looks the same as my Donald and Della's. And ya clearly are strong and tall and have some brains on ya...I have a proposition for ya! I'll let ya stay with us but in turn ya have to come on an adventure with us?!"

"WHAT!?" came the unison cries of Donald and Darren. Disbelief and excitement simultaneously shouted. 

"Aw come now Donald it won't be nothin' too long. I did warn ya this won't be a complete vacation. We're taking a short adventure up north! Darren, have ya ever heard the legend of the diamond river?"

* * *

"Della! Where are ya lass!? I need to introduce you to our new adventuring partner! And uh Donald's friend of course," Scrooge shouted as the three made it back to the mansion. Darren was bouncing on his toes in excitement. Donald was less enthusiastic about going on another adventure but he was happy his friend was excited at least. Sliding down the handrail came Della, decked out in the red tank top and black shorts with her hair held back in a blue headband. She jumped off the railing at the bottom and came closer to the three men. She eyed Darren almost suspiciously for a long moment.

"Della! This is Darren Duck! He's Donald's friends. Aaaand our new adventurer partner! He'll be joining us on our search for the lost diamond river!" Scrooge proudly declared.

"Pardon me Mr. McDuck but you have a call from Bradford," Duckworth interrupted. 

"Gah that blasted Buzzard. Be right back kids," Scrooge said stepping away. Della continued to look at Darren a touch suspiciously. 

"So you're the friend my brother has made out on that military boat?" She asked.

"Yep! I'm Darren! And you're Della! Donald has told me a lot about you! You're pretty cool! Well I think you are going from what I've heard about you," Darren said. He held his hand out for her to shake it. She accepted it.

"You think I'm cool?" She chuckled a little.

"Yeah! You've gone on a ton of adventures! You're really strong and good at fighting Donald says. And you're a really good strategist!"

"Ohhh. He said that did he?" Della tosses a glance to Donald and...blushed? Wild. 

"Yeah! You ever read The Empire of Three?" 

"Oh. Not really into books. Donald might though."

"Oh it's okay. Yeah I'll make him read them eventually. What about games? If you're a strategist maybe you'd like Creatures and Caverns! It's like Dungeons and Dragons but I think it's a little more accessible. You can focus better on strategy instead of roleplay." 

"Oooh I've never played it! I mean Donald and I have played Dungeons and Dragons before and that was fun. But that sounds fun too! We'll try it some time!" 

"Cool! Have you played Legends of Legend Quest before?"

"That's Donald and mine's favorite!" 

"I thought I told you that already," Donald laughed

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Guess I forgot," Darren said as he chuckled. His face turned a touch red with embarrassment. 

"Donald I'm stealing your friend, he's my friend now," Della joked. Darren turned a bit red again. 

"Aw come on you have plenty of friends! Why can't I have just this one?" Donald dramatically asked, pretending to be insulted. 

"Never! I must have it all! Mwahaha!" Della pretended right back. A look of high concern crossed Darren's face. 

"Oh no we're just kidding Darren. It's okay," Donald eased him. Darren ran his hands through his hair feathers. 

"Okay. Sorry," he said.

"Nah don't be. We play fight a lot. It can be off-putting. I'm guessing you're an only child?" Della asked.

"How did you know?" Darren marveled at her observation. 

"Eh. When you're a twin it's easy to weed out the only children," Della said with a shrug as if it was the most natural thing. Donald nodded and Darren stared but accepted it. 

"Although Donald...speaking of friends. There's something I wanna talk to you about. Uh Darren? Mind if we have a second?" Della asked, her tone suddenly shifting to dead serious. Darren nodded and with a side step he moved to the fireplace and stared at the grest picture of Scrooge over the mantle.

"What's wrong Della?" Donald asked. Della looked around before lowering her voice and and answering. 

"Look...I know this is gonna sound silly and I know you're probably gonna say this it's not real or something but um. I. Um. Well. A few days ago I was hanging out with my friend Sarah. And Sarah and I did a tarot reading."

"Okay...so?" Donald asked cautiously wondering what could have Della seeming so actually...scared? She gripped her hands together tightly. 

"Oh gosh now I'm a little scared to say it because now I'm scared if I say it it'll give it power," Della said more to herself. Her eyes were wide and her feet trembled. Donald put a hand on her shoulder.

"Della. It's okay. I'm here. What's scaring you?" He asked her softly. 

"Okay," she nodded her head. Her fingers grabbed the hand on her shoulder and gave a squeeze. Holding on tight to him. 

"I...I did the tarot reading with Sarah. All readings start with a question, you know? So I just asked 'what's in my future?' and she did her thing. There was three cards. The ace of cups. The Empress. And the 3 of swords." Della froze again and sighed heavily. Fear was clearly gripping at her. It was very frightening to Donald. Della was so ridiculously fearless. Seeing her so afraid as to be almost shaking was incredibly unusual. 

"It's okay Della, I'm here. Tell me. I don't know what these mean but I'm here." 

"So uh. Well there's a lot of interpretation to be had. Especially depending on order and way the cards are facing and such. And so like....um. Look the first two cards don't scare me. Ace of cups is like love, new relationships, compassion, stuff like that. And then the Empress is like creativity, new opportunity, stability, and even pregnancy. Um. But the third card is more intensive. It's sadness, grief, sorrow, unhappiness, loss. Stuff like that. And that's what scares me so much."

"So you're afraid something is going to happen?" Donald asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm scared. Especially about that loss interpretation. I'm worried that's about you. Donald you still have little over 3 years left to serve. Anything could happen! And especially after you finally told me about what happened with you and Tommy Jenkins. God Donald you should have told me about him bullying you back in school. I'd have kicked his ass so hard. And on top of it all you've been attacked 4 times that I know of by these pirates! So between pirates and Tommy-"

"It's fine Della."

"It is not fine! You are in danger!"

"No more than I am on our average adventure!"

"We weren't dining and working so close to the enemy on a daily basis for adventures!"

"I've been standing up for myself Della. He's actually been pretty thrown off by it. And I have Darren and Tristan and Travis looking out for me. I'll be okay. Besides it doesn't necessarily mean anything will happen! Like you said it's all interpretation. There's a lot of ways you could take that card. I am surprised you're taking this so seriously though honestly. Thought you didn't believe in this stuff," Donald attempted to comfort Della. 

"I don't but I. I just. I don't know. This feels different. And I'm scared." With that Della forced herself into Donald's embrace. He hugged her tightly and dropped a small kiss onto the top of her head. She squeezed him tightly, as if afraid to let go. 

"You're gonna be okay Della. We're all gonna be okay," he sighed. Part of him began to worry as usual. What if there was some truth to Della's fear? He was usually the one who was afraid. Comforting someone else who was afraid was super unfamiliar territory. What if she was right? What if something happened? He sighed again screwing his eyes tightly shut. His grip on her tightened. 

"I know you're scared Della. And I am too. I've tried so hard to not be. But I still am. Like what if that tarot is about you, not me? I can't be around to protect you and Scrooge as much right now. The thing is, there's always a risk. No matter how safely we try to live, there will always be risk. I don't know if I believe in these tarot things and whatnot. But I am gonna do my best to always come back home. Whatever happens. We made a promise remember? I won't die. I promise. And you gotta save a little worry for yourself so you can keep your promise."

Della didn't respond for some long time. Just held him tightly. Soaking in him and his words. 

"Okay...it'll be okay...gosh how are you so brave Donnie?" She asked with a deep sigh. 

"Me? Did you not just hear what I said? I'm scared too." Donald asked in bewildered shock. 

"You're very brave Donald. I'm just fearless. You though, you manage to do things despite being afraid. Here I am scared and I feel like I can't move. Ugh. Embarrassing."

"Oh we all get scared sometimes you know it. Even Uncle Scrooge even though he'll never admit it."

That made Della chuckle. Slowly she pulled out of the hug and tucked her hair back. 

"I'm sorry for being so silly. You're right. Whatever happens, good or bad, we'll make it through. And you better not die mister or I'm gonna kill ya," Della said with a hard punch to his arm for emphasis. 

"And you better not either dangit," Donald replied as he punched her back. 

"Owww. You really did gain some muscles," she laughed through the pain. Donald flexed his muscles in joking vanity. 

"Oh no don't let Storkules see this or he'll go even more off the wall for you," Della pointed out. Immediately Donald dropped his arms and leaned forward. 

"Ugh oh no. Last thing I need," Donald groaned. Della laughed and Donald couldn't help but laugh a little too.

The twins moved back towards Darren who was still staring up at the painting of Scrooge. 

"Hey Darren.....Darren? Darren?"

"Huh whoa what?" Darren jumped back and shook himself. 

"Whoa. Got way lost in thought there sorry. Everything good?" He asked as he settled back down. 

"Yep we're good. Thanks," Donald said.

"So Della! We're traveling in a plane? Donald says you're a pilot! And that you have your own plane!" Darren went on.

"Yeah! The Cloudslayer! She's my pride and joy!" She said passionately and began to ramble on about the specifications. Darren nodded along, admitting it wasn't something he understood or had a lot of interest in. But Della made it all so fascinating that he just might have to learn. If she'd be his teacher. She laughed at him for it and lightly whacked his arm. Donald smiled looking at the two of them getting along already. It made him really happy in fact. Nice that his friend and his sister were off to a good start of a relationship. Wait. Relationship? Wait a second. Donald's mind went back to what Della previously said about her tarot reading. Ace of cups. New relationship. Huh...could that really be? Donald looked back to Darren and Della. He was clinging on to her every word as she told a story of the one time with a daring dogfight and amazing escape from a legion of sky pirates! He smiled to himself. He could see it happening. Possibly. They were similar but not exactly alike. Darren was maybe a little more like Donald. Somewhat quiet and reserved, into nerdy and artistic stuff like reading and games. But he was also very excitable and longed to go on adventures like the three kids in the Empire of Three books or the heroes in his games. A little bit of Donald and a little bit of Della and a whole lot of that lovable, kind, gentle giant with special interests that made up Darren. Yeah he could totally see them becoming a couple. If that happened. Definitely would be the first boyfriend Della ever had that he liked that's for sure. 

"Alright ya kids! Done with that ruthless wrangler. Now let's get ready! I promise ya lads will be back in plenty of time to catch ya boat! But fer now, onward! To adventure!" Scrooge boisterously declared.

"To adventure!" The three younger adult ducks cheered in unison. Soon before long the plane was secured with everything they needed and the four were on board. Della showed off her great plane's power as they launched into the mighty sky and Darren marveled. 

"Pretty cool huh? Maybe I can make a mechanics guy out of you yet," she said with a wink.

"But hey. It's your turn to talk about something you're into so hit me with it," she added onto that statement. 

"Oooh so that book series I mentioned earlier? The Empire of Three?" Darren asked.

"Yeah go ahead! I don't think I've heard of it before now. What's it about?" Della responded.

"Okay it is the most amazing series you will ever read. You have got to read it at some point. It's about three boys. Three total strangers from different parts of the world who become best friends on an epic quest into a magical world. Their names are Hubert, Dewford, and Llewellyn-"

From where Donald sat with Uncle Scrooge, he smiled.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY DEAR READERS. I am so terribly sorry this took me what feels like a million years. I'm so embarrassed it took me this long but my brain was really struggling with this chapter. I started it back in freaking November! And then in December my idea for what actually became Chapter 4 happened and I got that down but I've been kinda stuck on this one ever since until now. I had my usual holiday slump to slog through as the holidays really worsen my depression. Then shortly after that I broke things off with a friend who I still care about and it's been eating me up inside since, making me feel exactly like Donald with the "toxic friend" fear and mentality and I've felt torn on do I have the audacity to try to message her again or do I just accept what happened? (And if you're here R, I'm sorry.) Towards the end of January I finally started getting out of my slump at least in fact, this chapter is A LOT bigger than intended. It's gotten to be bigger than my first chapter which was previously my longest. Once I started leaving my slump the creativity started coming back and then brain figured out How To write again. Gah I'm SOOO embarrassed this took so long and I'm so happy it's finally done. I hope this wasn't a disappointing chapter considering it's been such a long wait. Please please pleeeeaaaase leave comments I need validation and I'm very curious to see what you think. 
> 
> A huge huge HUGE thank you to my Betas Alyssa and Cass who've been ridiculously patient and supportive with me during this time. And thank you as well to Snow-Rain, Raven, and agentz123. Y'all have been so incredibly supportive and helpful giving me a ton of encouragement and helping me overcome my slump and putting up with my sadness. 
> 
> I feel like this fic is the epitome of that meme "Could a depressed person make THIS?" *holds up this work* No! 
> 
> Thank y'all again so much for reading my fic and being patient with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so incredibly much for reading this. More is to come with much more healing and love to follow. Please let me know what you think. Thank you.


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